The Gunblade Saga: Reload
by Peptuck
Summary: As two blades collide and two bitter foes brand one another, the pieces of Fate's game begin to move once more, in an indepth retelling of the events of Final Fantasy VIII. A complete rewrite of the original Gunblade Saga.
1. Prologue: Branding

**_Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VIII belongs to someone who is not me, and in fact is Square-Enix. That someone fully owns this property, outside of original, author-created characters appearing in this story. (Yes, that means General Randolph is _mine_, darn it.) Use of characters or material presented within without author's permission will result in SHOTGUN TO THE FACE. Or legal action. Or something._**

_"I'll be here . . ."_

_"Why?"_

_"I'll be 'waiting' here."_

_"For what?"_

_"I'll be waiting . . . for you . . . so . . . if you come here . . . you'll find me._

_"I promise."_

* * *

The field was empty. He had promised to meet her here, but he was gone. And somehow, in some deep, instinctive corner of her heart, she knew that he wouldn't be coming. 

He'd promised her. They'd meet here, together, but somehow . . . .

Where was he? Had he failed? Was he lost? She didn't know, and the lack of knowledge tore at her and left her weak with fear and worry.

She looked across the field, lost and alone. A cold, silent wind whipped across the meadow, tossing up flower petals. One floated in front of her, and she absently closed her hand over it.

No, he would never come. He couldn't, somehow . . . .

She released the petal, and her mouth opened in wonder, for it had changed, to a white feather, which the wind caught and blew into the sky. Her eyes followed it, her head turning, a hand coming up to brush her black hair out of her eyes so she could follow its movements into the darkening clouds . . . .

* * *

**_The Gunblade Saga: Reload - An in-depth novelization of Final Fantasy VIII_**

**_Book I: The Art of War_**

* * *

**_Prologue: Branding_**

Sparks flew as the two blades intersected, the slender, black-bladed Hyperion being turned aside by the parry of the heavier, silver blade of the Revolver. Their wielders backed off slightly, eyeing each other with deadly intensity.

A warm spring breeze, carrying with it the humid dampness of a coming morning storm, weaved its way between them, ruffling one man's long hair, and the other's long coat. To the east, a sliver of silver arose on the horizon, peeking over the mountains surrounding their field of battle. They stood atop a hill of gray stone, flanked on all sides by blank gray rocks and boulders. Overhead, the sky was darkened by the approaching storm clouds, but was occasionally lit by a lash of cracking lightning. Thunder followed the flashes of light, but no rain had yet to fall on the two warriors this morning. Beneath their battlefield, their hilltop was surrounded by tall pine trees, and a thick early morning mist hung over the branches and needles below. In the dim morning light, the two men stood alone, undisturbed in their personal conflict.

Hyperion rang against the Revolver, the slender gunblade's wielder smirked. His white coat flew out behind him as he parried a blow from the heavier gunblade, his steel gray eyes boring into his opponent with a mixture of amusement, respect, and arrogance. His bearing and demeanor, his tall, muscular physique, and his immaculate, slicked back blonde hair exemplified his aristocratic and haughty bearing that belied his eighteen years of age. Details seemed to matter to this man; a lock of hair hung down stylishly over his face, and a pair of blood-red crosses emblazoned his white trenchcoat's sleeves. Beneath this coat he wore a blue vest with a white cross splitting it vertically and horizontally. Black boots, gloves, and loose trousers completed his ensemble, and a slender scabbard for a slender blade rested on his left hip.

His foe deflected a swift thrust, and rushed ahead in an aggressive chop with the heavier Revolver. The two blades collided once more, and their eyes met, the Revolver's wielder meeting his foe with the same respectful look, though his eyes were of a deep blue hue as opposed to the steely eyes of his foe. He was much shorter than his tall foe, only coming up just past five feet and eight inches, with messy brown hair hanging past his eyes and partially down his face, almost like the mane of a hunting cat. He wore a short black leather jacket with thick, soft white fur around the collar, underneath which there was a plain white muscle shirt. He wore a trio of belts, one around his waist, the other two lower down, crossing diagonally over his groin. Pouches and pockets were attached to two of these belts, and the third, crossing over his left hip, was what appeared to be a combination of sword and gun-belt. The hybrid weapon holder was angled forward, as if its weapon was to be drawn like a sword, yet was shaped like a gun's holster, except it was longer, like a sword's sheath. Around the man's right leg was a trio of small bandoleers, each containing many small cylinders, like ammunition for a revolver. Like his foe, this man had black pants, these made out of leather like his jacket, and also, like his foe, his boots and gloves matched his pants. Around his neck was a chain, leading down to a crafted lion's head at the end.

Hyperion's wielder grinned as their weapons met in a clinch. Their blades were not traditional swords, but rather what was commonly called a "gunblade;" an esoteric weapon that combined the features of a long sword blade and a firearm's handle, slide, and magazine. In the Revolver's case, it was modeled after a heavy, oversized magnum revolver, with a long, wide, and heavy blade extending out nearly three feet from the cylinders of the revolver aspect, where the revolver's barrel was supposed to be. A stylized engraving of a crouched, winged lion marked both sides of the wide, straight blade. The blade itself tapered until the last few inches, where the tip was shaped like the end of a scimitar, the curved edge excellent for slicing, yet straight enough for a powerful thrust. On the end of the handle of the Revolver was a short chain, at the end of which was a small, crafted emblem; the head of roaring lion.

Hyperion's wielder smirked once more, and suddenly broke away, his weapon shooting up against the heavier gunblade and smashing against the crafted steel. The weapon was blasted up and out of the hands of its wielder, who was surprised at the power in that stroke. It flew upwards, spinning end over end, and reached the apex of its flight, before descending toward the ground and smashing into the stone point-first. The gunblade stood tall and straight, the chain on the end clinking, and a flash of lightning illuminated the dark morning, followed by a peal of thunder and the gentle whisper of light, falling rain.

The brown-haired man glanced to his enemy, who stood calmly, watching him and waiting for him to recover his lost weapon, smiling all the while.

_Arrogant bastard._

His gloved fingers closed around the gunblade's handle, and the brown-haired warrior tore the weapon from the damp soil. Feeling the solid weight of his hybrid weapon in his hands, he raised the gunblade and turned on his foe. The blonde man waited silently, his superior smirk still marking his features, as he waited for his opponent to make the first move. Hyperion, like the Revolver, was a gunblade, although this weapon had the handle of semi-automatic handgun as opposed to a more old-fashioned revolver. Hyperion was long and slender, and was straight, with a shining, chromed edge.

The Revolver's wielder suddenly bolted forward, gritting his teeth as he rushed at his foe. Hyperion remained still until an instant before the Revolver flew across in a heavy, powerful swing. The slender gunblade snapped up, smashing into the heavy blade and stopping it cold. The Revolver's wielder blinked in confusion, as he knew his enemy wasn't strong enough to block his heavy cleave with one arm.

He had no time to ponder the strange circumstances, as his enemy took advantage of that moment of hesitation to spin around on his right leg in a wild, arcing cut. It slammed into the Revolver as the brown-haired warrior brought it up in a deft block, sparks flying through the morning air as the two blades crashed together. Without missing a beat, the heavier gunblade disengaged and chopped across in a countering slash, but the light-footed blonde man spun away once more. Hyperion came out of the spin in a descending smash that knocked the Revolver out of the way, once more with unexpected power. He smirked as his opponent's eyes widened at the energy in his attack, and disengaged his weapon.

The shorter man rushed in with another cleave, and his blonde foe ducked under the attack, spinning around behind his opponent and raising his weapon to his shoulder, the tip of Hyperion leveled at the clouds overhead. As the Revolver's wielder spun around, Hyperion's wielder grinned knowingly and gestured with his left hand, beckoning his opponent to resume the duel. His foe obliged, starting forward, only to have to fall back as his opponent's weapon shot ahead in a sudden, swift thrust. The Revolver snapped across and crashed into the smaller gunblade, knocking it aside, and then had to parry swiftly with the heavy weapon as his enemy launched two more quick thrusts. As he blocked the third stab by Hyperion, the shorter fighter countered, stepping into a brutal overhead cleave that would split his foe from forehead to navel.

Hyperion somehow arced across and over its wielder, the gunblade intercepting the powerful slash with surprising ease. The blonde man smirked, and shoved forward with his weapon, throwing the heavy Revolver off his gunblade.

"Having fun yet?" the blonde man asked with a dark smile, and the brown-haired warrior narrowed his eyes as he started to understand what the duplicitous bastard was doing. He snarled quietly, and rushed ahead, undeterred by his opponent's treachery. His gunblade chopped in once more, and once again Hyperion deflected it with practiced, deliberate ease.

The blonde warrior suddenly shot ahead, his gunblade dipping low and rising up in an arcing cut, driving the Revolver back, and the brown-haired warrior continued retreating as his enemy slashed upwards a second time, trying to attack from an odd angle to throw his foe off. As Hyperion cut past, the Revolver countered in another vicious hack, which Hyperion's wielder nearly walked into. He backed away as the Revolver chopped in a second time, this time ringing against his gunblade. Even with his strength, the larger man had to set his feet and put his hand against the flat of his weapon to absorb all of his opponent's strike. His enemy launched a furious assault, taking advantage of his momentum, the Revolver crashing against Hyperion in a brutal series of blows. Gritting his teeth, Hyperion's wielder snapped his weapon forward as the Revolver retracted and shot ahead, and the weapons met.

The Revolver was shoved back and down by its foe's superior strength, and the brown-haired man leapt back before his enemy would strike out. However, as he retreated, the blonde man finally decided that he was finished with playing around. He clenched his fist as the Revolver's wielder rushed forward, and raised his left hand.

"Dodge this one!" he snarled, his eyes widening with glee.

The brown-haired man's eyes widened as red and yellow light coalesced into an incandescent ball in the taller man's hand. Hyperion's wielder smiled with vicious superiority, and unleashed the blast of energy he was channeling as his foe raised his gunblade. The blast slammed into the steel blade, which deflected most of the power behind the blow, but the potent burst of energy hurled the smaller man onto his rear, sending him skinned backward across the damp stone and soil.

_Son of a bitch! He's using magic, too!_

As that thought sounded, the smaller man's training kicked in, and he began to rise, not wanting to allow his opponent any time to take advantage of his weakness. A shadow fell over the brown-haired man as he started to stand, however, and he looked up, in time to see his enemy step forward, Hyperion arcing up into the air as his foe's eyes widened with manic glee. The smaller man's own eyes widened an instant before the slender gunblade flashed down.

A curse sounded within his mind, and a line of pain flashed over his face. His head jerked back as he felt his own lifeblood burst from the upper right side of his forehead and down over the bridge of his nose. He looked down, and saw crimson staining the gray stone beneath him, and the laughter of his victorious opponent.

His fingers tightened around his gunblade as instinct and fury took hold, and the smaller man rose in a single, sudden motion. The Revolver dragged forward, slicing along the stone and tearing chunks of rock free as adrenaline surged into his body, sending him into a rising strike that shot into his enemy's laughing visage and cut through his nose, stretching up along the left side of his forehead. Blood flew from the Revolver as his foe stumbled backward, and crimson dripped into the brown-haired man's eyes, blinding him as he rushed forward, raising his weapon to continue their battle. His foe clenched his teeth, ignoring the pain as anger took over, and their weapons collided once more.

His foe's unnatural power, however, was too much, and the smaller warrior felt his weapon begin to be forced back, and then he heard his opponent snarl in anger, right before his left hand balled into a fist and shot across into his jaw. His head was snapped back, and he was thrown off his feet and to the dirt. He heard his gunblade clatter to the stone as darkness swam up to claim his thoughts.

* * *

Its been almost two years since I finished the original version of _The Gunblade Saga_. With over five hundred and ninety documented reviews (lus two hundred and fifty from my reload of the original), its one of the works that I feel defined my place as a fanfiction author. Even today I still get emails and reviews, and the name "Gunblade Saga" pops up from time to time as I browse the Internets. I get gushing praise all the time for what I've written, and its flattering. 

I also feel its out of place; when I look back over what I've written, this work that so many people speak so highly of, I can't help but feel..._dissappointed_. The simple fact is that I've grown as I wrote, and in looking back over the original work, I can't help but feel its a primitive work, something a much lesser person wrote, and it needs - no, _demands_ - improvement. The original is a trainwreck, I'm sad to say, and I need to fix it. I need to make it better, faster, stronger, more - erm, I'll shut up on that tangent.

Final Fantasy VIII is a great game, and it deserves better than what I've written. I was proud when I finished Gunblade before, and now I want to feel proud _again._ I want to redo it, to write something I feel is worthy of the game it is based off. But fear not for my other works; I'll continue working on Mako, SeeD, and Synthesis. This is a side project more for my personal satisfaction than anything else.

Thus, we begin anew; I'm editing and redoing the _entire_ story, using all the skills and improvements I've developed over the last few years. Brace yourselves; Peptuck's going back into the heart of his defining fanfiction, and he's not going to come out until he's satisfied his worst critic of all: _himself_.

To that end, I need my readers to help out here: I need you psychotic little darlings to be _merciless._ Tear my chapters apart and tell me what is right and what is wrong. Tell me what needs improvement. Pull no punches, hold nothing back. You see something wrong, tell me, dammit. Fear not whether you will offend me: I only want to improve, and I can only do that with your help. A ten-page review tearing apart every aspect of a chapter will be welcomed and praised. I value you for reading this, and I value your input in helping me.

Until first chapter...


	2. Chapter I: Garden

_**Chapter I: Garden**_

His head hurt.

His eyes slowly slid open, his lids feeling as though they were being dragged down with lead weights. He closed them just as quickly, the brightness stinging his eyes for an instant, before he opened them once more. White light, that of a mid-morning sun, shone down on him through a window directly overhead. A warm breeze, carrying with it the damp scents and fragrant bouquet of growing flowers after a morning rainstorm, wafted through the open window, playing with the white curtains flanking the opening. Somewhere beyond the window, birds could be heard , chirping and singing.

"Oh, you're awake," came a woman's voice, and he looked up at the ceiling overhead. He knew this ceiling pretty well, and understood that the comfortable bed he lay in was one of the numerous ones in the main infirmary. He started to sit up, his head swimming slightly at the motion, and judging by the feeling in his mouth, he'd been out for a few hours. His jacket was missing, leaving him only in his trousers and muscle shirt.

"How are you feeling?" came the woman's voice, kind and gentle, and as he rose, he could see the portly form of Doctor Kadowaki standing at the foot of his bed. The heavy-set doctor glanced at the chart in her hand, and then back to him, and nodded.

"That was a pretty nasty hit Seifer gave you," she remarked, and he nodded. The pain in his forehead was subsiding - _must have used some healing spells on me -_ and he ignored what remained as he reached up and touched his forehead. The rest of his body ached faintly, particularly his jaw, where Seifer had slugged him.

_That bastard was junctioned._

"I'm fine, I guess," he muttered as his fingers touched the bandages over his forehead and the bridge of his nose. They wrapped all the way around his head. He remembered a lot of blood; flashes of memories - of him being carried back inside the building, of trying to get to his gunblade - passed through his mind as he tried to remember how he'd gotten there. He looked up to Kadowaki as she came around the hospital bed, and looked into his face. Her own features became clearer, and she nodded, writing something on her chart.

"Good, your eyes are focusing. No obvious damage to them from what I can tell. Tell me your name."

"Squall," he replied immediately. At least _that _part of his body wasn't injured. "Squall Leonhart, Cadet Senior, Four-One-Two-Six-Nine." Kadowaki nodded at the reflexive recitation of name, rank, and ID number, and wrote it down on her chart.

"Looks like you're fine, then," she remarked. "No serious head or brain injuries, though you may want to keep that cut clean; Seifer cut you pretty deeply out there." Squall scowled at the statement, and wanted to point out that the other cadet had been cheating, but didn't feel like arguing.

"Why don't you two take it easier next time in training?" the doctor added, and Squall snorted. "The way you two act, you could end up killing each other before you're finished."

"Tell that to Seifer," muttered Squall under his breath.

"Hmph," Kadowaki added. "That kid won't listen to anyone. I'm amazed he hasn't been drummed out by now. Why don't you just ignore him?" Squall snorted again at the notion and the advice. Ignoring Seifer? Things weren't so simple between him and the other cadet.

It would have been easier if the other cadet was just a bully, but Seifer Almasy and Squall Leonhart were more than just two cadets who sparred. When it got down to the most basic matters, they were two cadets who pushed themselves brutally hard, beyond the extent of any other students, and that resulted in the two of them being in a class of their own. Seifer Almasy, arrogant and prideful as he was, wasn't one to accept competition or share a position. And Squall, stubborn and prideful as he was, didn't back down from any challenge.

What had happened this morning was just another in a long series of incidents just like it, with two cadets who refused to back down meeting head to head . . . only this time, the asshole had been junctioned, which was against what they had agreed to do.

"I can't just walk away," Squall muttered after a moment, and Kadowaki shrugged, resigning herself to the fact that she wasn't going to get the stubborn cadet the listen to her.

"If that's how you want it to be," she admitted. "Just don't get yourself killed, okay? I don't want to have to see you in here again for something this stupid."

_Whatever,_ Squall thought dismissively, as the doctor walked out of the small infirmary room and behind her desk outside, positioned so she could observe all of the medical rooms personally. He laid back on his bed, savoring the relative silence, and heard Kadowaki speaking faintly outside, at her desk phone.

"No, he's fine. His injury isn't serious, and it shouldn't leave much more than a scar. Yes, please come and pick him up." Squall cursed quietly in his mind. His Instructor wasn't going to be too happy about this particular incident. In fact, she was probably going to nag on him about how he shouldn't hurt himself like this in combat. He'd already had enough of that from Kadowaki today.

_Today? Dammit, I forgot. Field Exam. And I still need to do my Fire Cavern test, too . . . ._

She was going to nag at him about _that_, too. He flexed the fingers of his right hand, and glanced down at the foot of his bed, where his personal effects had been piled into a neat bundle by the medics who must have brought him in. He frowned as he saw his gunblade, the Revolver, leaning against the wall in its scabbard, and idly wondered who had been handling it.

Well, it was safe now, along with his coat and other personal effects, which didn't amount to much. He glanced down at his left hand, and at the silver ring which was normally hidden beneath his gloves. He looked over it for a minute, and then heard the Doctor walk outside, passing through the automatic door leading away from the infirmary. Good. He preferred being alone, in solitude, without anyone bothering him. Some time passed, with Squall just listening to the sounds of the birds outside and the calls and laughter of other cadets in the courtyard outside or in the Quad, north of the infirmary. His eyes began to droop some more, and he slipped into a light doze.

"There you are," came a woman's soft voice, and he opened his eyes, for a second thinking that it was his Instructor. He glanced down at the foot of the bed, and saw a brown-haired woman looking at him from the doorway leading into the room, a smile on her face. She couldn't have been out of her twenties; in fact, she looked only a few years beyond Squall's seventeen. Her hair dropped just past her mouth, and she wore a light blue blouse and a long white skirt that dropped past her knees. Warm brown eyes watched him as he sat up, confused.

He didn't immediately respond, instead looking over the woman. A sense of familiarity washed over him, as if he knew her, and he turned his head to the side quizzically, raising an eyebrow.

"Squall? Do you remember me?" she asked, and he blinked, before slowly shaking his head.

"Should I?" he asked, and her forehead bunched up in confusion.

"You should," she replied quietly, almost sadly, to which he shook his head again.

"No, sorry," he replied after a second. "I don't know you."

"I didn't think you would," she replied quietly, and then managed a smile. "Maybe we'll meet again someday, and you'll remember." Squall blinked as the woman nodded to him and backed out of the room, disappearing out into Kadowaki's office.

"Who was that?" Squall muttered under his breath as he heard the door slide open and closed once more. He spent the next few moments considering who the woman was, and why she felt so familiar, before passing it off as a case of mistaken identity.

_But if she was mistaken, then how did she know my name?_

Squall shook his head and started to lay back on the bed. This was the only rest he'd likely be receiving today, with the Field Exam and the Fire Cavern test. He'd best enjoy it while he could.

* * *

She absently brushed a tress of blonde hair out of her face, wondering what the hell had gotten into her two best students as she waited for the elevator to come to a halt. For the Instructor, clad in her black and gold-trimmed dress uniform, that question had been asked far too often lately. 

Her boots clipped on the smooth tile floors of Balamb Garden as she stepped off the elevator and into the central structure of the academy. She marched down the steps leading down from the elevator platform briskly, and onto the central walkway encircling the vast pillar running up the middle of the main building. The interior of the Garden's central building was a vast and open chamber, consisting of a wide, long circular walkway over a pool of rushing water. Individual walkways attached to the central path surrounding the elevator platform, each individually-colored path leading off to one of the other Garden facilities. The entire first floor of the main building featured numerous growing ferns and other flora, in neatly kept gardens along the pathways. Two pools, one beneath the main circular walkway, and another raised between the walkway and the elevator platform, lent the main building a constant sound of rushing water. The plants, the flowing water, and the hustle and bustle of students, soldiers, faculty, and support personnel turned the main building into a lush, life-filled environment, teeming with energy.

She strode past cadets and her fellow faculty and soldiers, nodding to each of them as she passed, and receiving smiles, and nods back, particularly from her "fans." They weren't out in force today, most of them being in class at this point, but a few could be found here and there. Most of the cadets were preparing for their final exams for this semester, before summer break, which generally just consisted of a lighter course load and some field training. But a few could be seen preparing for the true final exam of this semester, the Field Exam: an actual live-fire combat drill against real enemies, not training simulators or sparring matches against other cadets.

She turned onto the walkway leading toward the Infirmary, and wondered once more what had provoked Squall and Seifer this morning during their training excercise. While they were definitive rivals and were constantly butting heads - occasionally _literally_ - they had never sent the other to the infirmary before with severe wounds. Or at least, "severe wounds" was what she'd heard from the Garden's rumor mill. The _official_ report from Kadowaki had calmed her nerves somewhat, but she was still troubled by the conflict between her two best students. Things were potentially coming to a head now, especially with Seifer only a year or two away from being drummed out of the academy due to his age.

She strode down the corridor connecting to the infirmary, passing open windows that overlooked the manicured lawns, training circles, and parks that defined Balamb Garden's exterior grounds. To her right, she could see the Quad, which was the major gathering place for cadets and soldiers wanting to socialize, work out, or relax. The halfway-constructed stage for the Garden Festival, which was meant to signify the beginning of summer break, was visible as she walked past and neared the door into the infirmary.

She was still too far from the door for the thermal sensors to register her approach, but they opened suddenly, and a brown-haired woman walked out the doors. She started to pass the Instructor, but then paused as she saw her face.

"Good morning, Quistis," she said, and Quistis Trepe paused, confused. She didn't recognize this young woman, who was only a few years past her own eighteen years, but somehow she'd known the Instructor's name. The strange woman didn't immediately wait for a response, instead nodding and walking past the Instructor, leaving her confused.

_Probably a friend of the Headmaster's,_ she mused mentally,_ or from one of the other Gardens._

Dismissing the encounter, the young Instructor stepped through the opened Infirmary doors and into the small hospital. She glanced around, and spotted her student as he lay on the bed in the room closest to the door. She walked around in front of the bed and closed her eyes, planting her hands on her hips and sighing as she saw the bandages over his face. At the sound of her sigh, Squall Leonhart opened his eyes and raised his head, before dropping it back onto the white pillow. She understood his reaction, but dismissed that as well. It was typical, and she was used to his impatience with her.

"I knew it would eventually be either you or Seifer," she muttered under her breath. "You two don't pull any punches." He didn't respond - not that she expected him to. She stared at him for a moment before stepping beside his bed and crossing her arms.

"Are you going to lie in bed all day?" she asked. "We've got the Fire Cavern test to complete before 1400 Balamb Time. That gives us less than seven hours before the Field Exam. You're cutting it unbelievably close today, Squall."

With a quiet mixture of a sigh and a snort, he sat forward, and then started to climb out of the bed. She watched him as he stood and moved over to the bundle at the foot of the bed. It was rare to see Squall not wearing a jacket of some kind, except when he was working out, and his arms were toned and muscular, though not large and bulky. His entire frame was possessed of a lithe, compact, and powerful strength that was only enhanced by his special skills and training. Quistis said nothing as he donned his jacket, his swordbelt, and his boots. Then, he drew his weapon.

She watched with fascination as he checked over his gunblade, flipping it over on both sides to make sure that the weapon was undamaged. There were few things in this world that Squall cared about, and of those, his gunblade was one of them. As he finished checking his weapon, even popping open the cylinders and making sure it was loaded and clean, he turned to his Instructor. Without a word, he started past her, toward the door, which slid open as he neared it. Quistis hurried to catch up as he stepped into the relatively open air of the breezeway outside. The warm, humid breeze and the laughter of students greeted them as they walked, yet Squall retained his cool, almost mask-like visage as they walked.

Quistis looked at his face from behind and to his right, frowning. Most people couldn't tell the difference between Squall's various expressions, which generally consisted of the same blank, uncaring almost-frown he wore now. Rather, the easiest way to tell what he was thinking was by his body language, and right now, his stride was only halfway purposeful and deliberate, and he kept glancing outside with small turns of the head. That meant one thing to Quistis.

"Squall," she said, moving directly beside him. "Something on your mind?"

He didn't look at her, but the fact that he scowled slightly was all she needed to know. When he finally did speak a few moments later, she knew what he was saying before the words left his lips.

"Not really," he said, and she echoed at the same time. At that, he came to a stop, and looked at her, frowning more fully this time. The Instructor, for her part, couldn't help but manage a giggle as his perturbed expression, which just seemed to make him more unhappy.

"What's so funny?" he asked quietly, his voice carrying a degree of annoyance as he spoke.

"Nothing," she replied immediately, smiling, and he started walking away. She followed after him immediately. "I just feel like I'm _finally_ beginning to understand my student a little bit, that's all."

"I'm more complicated than you think," he retorted quietly, not looking at her. She could tell that all this talking about nothing was probably getting on his nerves, so she pressed on, hoping to extract something out of him.

"So, tell me," she replied, answering the unspoken challenge. "Tell me some more about yourself, Squall."

"That's none of your-" he immediately responded.

"Business?" Quistis cut in, and he stopped again, and stared at the floor beneath their feet, even more annoyed than before. For her part, Quistis couldn't hold back some more laughter, and after a second, he started forward at a brisker pace, trying to get away from his prying Instructor. She followed after him, but remained silent, recognizing his defensive body language and knowing that she wasn't going to get any further with him at this point. His reaction right now was the same as it had always been when anyone tried to get to know him; he brushed them aside if he could, and kept them at arm's length. Even though he'd been at Garden for over twelve years, he was still an enigma to nearly everyone, expect possibly Seifer.

Perhaps that was what made her student so interesting to Quistis. While she had known some anti-social children, Squall was something else; he refused to let anyone get near him. Understanding what made him tick like that was one of Quistis' goals. But breaking through that wall of his was going to take time; in over two years of trying to pry into his mind, their conversation on the breezeway was typical of how far as they had gotten. He just didn't connect with anyone.

_Perhaps its for the best, in this line of business, really._

They were, after all, in the business of serving as private military contractors, which was the more politically correct term for "mercenaries." Garden served as a training center and base for what was widely considered the best-trained and most dangerous military force on the planet: SeeD.

Odd capitalization policies aside, SeeD was an effective, if unusual, mercenary outfit. Unlike most other private contractors, SeeD didn't take troops directly from other nations' militaries or police forces, but rather trained their own inside the Gardens, many from a very young age. Not only were the Gardens military bases, but they were schools for all levels, from preschool to college. Individual Gardens handled their cadets differently, and specialized in certain areas.

Galbadia Garden, located on the Monteresau Plateau inside the Republic of Galbadia, served as a Garden that handled a wide range of military affairs. Its SeeDs were trained special forces focusing on technology, firearms, and modern military tactics. Heavy emphasis within that Garden was placed on firearms, vehicles, and "reliable" tech and equipment, as opposed to the more esoteric skills of the other two Gardens. The SeeDs produced by it were on the same tier as the Special Forces units of other nations like the Dollet Dukedom or Galbadia. They were so successful that the republic of Galbadia had contracts to train their officers at Galbadia Garden, and the Garden ran a program to help graduates enlist in the militaries of other nations. In addition to all of that, the Garden also conducted technological and weapons research as well.

Trabia Garden, meanwhile, was much smaller, and located in the harsh northern winterlands of Trabia. The emphasis there was placed on survival and research into magic and energy manipulation, which were really one and the same. While Balamb and Galbadia Gardens used magic, they did not conduct such extensive research into it. However, as a result of the smallest Garden's tenacity, there had been numerous breakthroughs at Trabia Garden involving direct magic manipulation and spontaneous casting of spells without needing to "draw" energy like Balamb and Galbadia taught.

Balamb Garden, however, focused on a different avenue of operation. Instead of magic or technology, Balamb Garden utilized immensely powerful spirits called "Guardian Forces" as their primary source of power, allowing them to produce SeeDs with physical abilities and spellcasting powers far beyond the human norm. This did not come without risk, however, and there were rumors that there could be side effects or even brain damage from prolonged Guardian Force usage. But the advantages far outweighed the negatives in this line of work, where danger and potential death were part and parcel of a SeeD mercenary's life. This was understood, and the SeeD cadets were trained to the utmost to avoid needless death. SeeD took its training so seriously that the final exam to become one was a live-combat operation in an actual SeeD contract.

Quistis watched Squall as they stepped into the central elevator and began to ascend to the second floor, where the classrooms and training facilities were located. He remained silent, and notably, he seemed to lean slightly away from her as he stood in the small elevator car. She knew he didn't care much about physical contact, but her prying seemed to have activated his defenses, and he was, at least subconsciously, trying to distance himself from her.

"Homeroom is going to be cut short," she commented as the elevator came to a stop at the second floor. "You and I need to head to the Fire Cavern before the exam starts, and it's a couple of hours back and forth. We're not going to be doing much more than announcing the Field Exam anyway."

"Fine," he grunted, and stepped off the elevator after her. Quistis closed her eyes as she walked down the bridge connecting the elevator shaft and the classrooms on the second floor, and wondered what it would take to get _anything_ from her taciturn student.

* * *

They passed the classrooms running along the second level of Garden, the cadet trailing behind his instructor. He could hear other Instructors faintly through the sliding doors of the various classrooms as they passed, and occasionally the shouts and katas of training dojos in use. This floor was where all of the real training took place to become a SeeD. The classrooms were all located on the second level, in a circle surrounding the main elevator column which centered the core building. He idly stared at the numbers on the classroom doors and training rooms and counted them down until Quistis finally reached her classroom. The doors slid open, and she walked inside, warmly greeting her class of graduate-level cadets with a smile and a nod, which they were happy to return, particularly the men. After all, Quistis was one of the youngest Instructors in Garden, and one of the most attractive. 

Squall, for his part, quietly moved around the outside of the classroom, which was made up of four rows of large computer and study terminals running the length of the room. There were enough seats and screens to seat a hundred cadets, and enough standing room for a hundred more, though only about thirty cadets were present today. Some of them wore casual dress, but many were clad in the standard cadet uniform, consisting of a navy blue jacket with silver shoulders, and navy trousers for men and skirts for women.

As Squall worked his way around to the back of the lines of terminals, he spotted one other cadet at the rear row of seats, and frowned. The white coat, blonde hair, and superior smirk marked Seifer Almasy like a beacon as he sat back in his seat, feet propped up on the terminal before him. The blonde cadet waved a hand at Squall, his smirk growing, and the brown-haired cadet could see an angry red line tracing up from the left side of his nose and to the right side of his forehead, where Squall had branded him that morning. It looked as if it had been healing for a couple of days, but the red swelling of a recent injury was still present, the telltale signs of the use of healing magic.

_Naturally, he didn't go to the Infirmary. Junctions made it unnecessary._

Squall sat down in the seat across the row from Seifer as his self-proclaimed rival leaned back, and said nothing. They both knew exactly who had gone to the infirmary this morning, and who hadn't, and Seifer didn't need to rub it in any more than that. Even if he had been junctioned, Squall had lost, and that was all that mattered as far as Seifer cared.

Both cadets looked ahead as Quistis settled into the chair behind the large instructor's desk at the front of the classroom, beneath a large viewscreen. She tapped a couple of keys on a desk-mounted computer and brought up the plan of the day. Her blue eyes flicked over it, and she nodded, before looking back to the class.

"Class!" she called, and the cadets all looked up, fixing her with their full attention. "Those of you who have completed the written exam last week and passed it should have already been notified of this, but the Field Exam is starting this afternoon at 1400 Balamb Time. You should have your weapons and equipment at the ready and be in uniform at the main entrance to the Garden at 1300. We'll be launching from Balamb Harbor at 1400, so be ready." She glanced across the room. "The rest of you, I'm sorry, but you won't be able to participate on this exam, as it's the last one for this semester." She tapped a key on her computer, and the notice vanished.

"Also, one more thing. Seifer!" at the sound of his name, the unruly cadet frowned, before meeting Quistis' eyes.

"Trust is an important part of any training exercise," she explained. "Use of junctions when the exercise is agreed to be non-junctioned is unacceptable. Furthermore, you've injured your partner during training. I'd expect you to have more self control than you exhibited today. Your grade has been dropped by one rank for these indiscretions, though it is still high enough for today's exam. Do you understand, Seifer?" Seifer glared at his Instructor as a couple of cadets snickered quietly, and his expression contained pure venom. He glanced at Squall and sneered, knowing all about the Instructor's interests in Squall.

"Mad because I scarred up your boy-toy?" he asked under his breath. Quistis, who didn't hear what he said, frowned.

"I asked if you understood, Seifer?" she repeated, and the cadet nodded.

"I can't hear you, Seifer," she called, her voice taking on an edge.

"Yeah, I heard you," he growled.

"Yes, what?" she continued, splitting him with her gaze.

"Yes _ma'am,_ Instructor," he snarled, grinding his teeth together at the dressing-down he was catching from the perturbed Instructor. To his left, Squall lowered his head, and the slightest of satisfied grins etched across his features at Seifer's humiliation.

"That's all, class," Quistis said, and stood up. The rest of the class began to stand, except for a few ejected cadets who had failed to pass the test. Squall remained seated, wanting to let all the students leave first rather than join the rush to leave class, and instead idly tapped on his keyboard at his terminal, logging in and accessing the Balamb Garden network. He skimmed over the message board - nothing but pointless spam and topics there - and checked his inbox. No new mail, naturally, except boring faculty announcements. Nothing on the Field Exam, either. A shadow fell over the terminal as Squall logged out, and he glanced up, to see Seifer standing over him.

"Don't miss the exam, Squall," the cadet said with a grin. "Hate to see you miss out just because you were too lazy to hit the Fire Cavern."

"If you hadn't cheated this morning, I might have," Squall shot back, and Seifer chuckled.

"Just trying to toughen you up, Squall," he replied, leaning forward against the terminal. "You're not always going to be junctioned, you know."

"You still cheated," Squall muttered, shaking his head. "We weren't supposed to use magic _or_ junctions." Seifer frowned, and he leaned closer.

"Let me ask you this," he growled. "You make SeeD. You go up head to head against some enemy soldier. He uses magic on you, knocking you on your ass. But instead of giving you a scar, he chops your skull in, killing you. Will you complain about him cheating? No, you won't; you'll just be dead."

"Are you trying to say you're helping me? You're saying this morning was for my benefit?"

"Yeah," Seifer replied. "People fight dirty in real life. When it comes down to life and death, will you care about 'rules?' Or will you care about survival?" With that, Seifer rose and turned, walking out of the classroom and leaving Squall alone at his terminal to consider his rival's words.

* * *

Five minutes later, Squall was stepping out of the classroom, mentally going down the checklist of things he would need to do before going on the Fire Cavern exam. He'd need to make sure he had enough medical supplies and burn ointments, as well as reload and clean his gunblade. He was also going to need ice magic; he'd expended all of his available ice elemental energy yesterday, and that type of magic would be useful against the creatures in the Fire Cavern, and the real objective of the exam: Ifrit. 

But still, Squall was distracted by what Seifer had said. In many ways, the older cadet was right: he was a mercenary, and he would have to fight dirty to survive. To not use a tactic that was available to him was a quick way to cripple himself, and he couldn't allow that.

_I have to be strong, dammit. Can't let something as silly as 'honor' get in the way of surviv-_

"I'm late, I'm _late!_"

One hundred pounds of screaming female cadet cut off Squall's line of thought by crashing headlong into his chest. Even caught off-guard, Squall was still able to weather the sudden impact, stumbling backward a step, while the girl who had smashed into him was thrown to the floor. Frowning, he stepped forward, mentally cursing himself for being so distracted as to miss her, even with her shouting like she was.

"Ow," he heard her whine, and she started to stand up, shaking her head as she did so. Squall caught sight of short brown hair that would have dropped past her chin if it wasn't curled up at the ends, and bright green eyes as she looked up at the person she'd crashed into.

"Sorry," she started to apologize, but then hesitated as she saw Squall's features. He was unperturbed by her expression of surprise and unthinking attraction; he was used to new female cadets giving him extra looks when they first saw him.

"Are you okay?" Squall asked, still annoyed at himself for being so unaware of his surroundings. If she had been a grenade, he would have been hamburger.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she replied, and managed a laugh as she shook off her fascination with Squall's features. Her bright green eyes traced over his bandages, and she frowned. "Are _you_ okay?" he waved a hand, dismissing the question.

"Is, um, homeroom over already?" she asked as he started to step by her, assured of her well-being. He shrugged and nodded, and heard her pout. "Darn it! This place is so much bigger than Trabia Garden!" She turned toward him and reached out, grabbing him by the shoulder of his jacket. He turned around, annoyed by the small girl's grapple, and frowned. Being touched didn't bother him much, but not many people actually did it, knowing Squall's reputation for aloofness.

"Hey, can you show me around? Just real quickly?" she asked, and Squall almost considered refusing, considering he had so much to do today. However, as distant as he preferred to be, he wasn't heartless, and he didn't want this girl getting lost again. He nodded after a second, and gestured for her to follow him. He led her out over the bridge connecting the classrooms and the elevator shaft, and overlooked the interior of the main building.

"You should know about the gate on the south side, right?" he asked, and she nodded immediately. "Okay. Short and simple." He pointed over the side of the bridge. "Just northwest of the gate is the infirmary. That's where Doctor Kadowaki and the medics will treat you if you do something stupid." he tapped his bandages to emphasize his point, and she nodded.

"North of the infirmary is the Quad. That's where rallies and other events happen," he continued, and she nodded again.

"Yeah, the Garden Festival is coming up!" she added. "I'm on the Committee!"

_Good luck,_ Squall thought. He'd read that most of the Committee members had either left Garden or had been deployed on missions, meaning no one was around to deal with the Festival now.

"North of the Quad, and on the northwest side of the Garden, is the Cafeteria," he continued. "The entire northern sector of the Garden is taken up by the Dorms complex. East of the Dorms complex is the Garage, where we keep personal vehicles and Garden armor and transports. Its also where we keep the main armory."

"What about those gunboats I keep hearing about?" she asked.

"You mean the Salamanders. We keep them at private hangar in Balamb Harbor." he pointed toward the east side of the Garden. "The eastern sector is made up of the Training Center. it's a live-fire , closed environment with monsters for training purposes. Despite the security patrols, its still dangerous, so keep on your toes." She nodded as he pointed toward the southeast end of the Garden.

"The library is that way," he finished. "Administration is on the third floor. That's where all the officers, Faculty, and Instructors work. Headmaster Kramer's office is up there."

"What about the basement?" she asked, and he shook his head.

"That's off-limits to everyone except Faculty and the Headmaster. Not even the SeeD officers are allowed down there."

"Gotcha," she replied, and he nodded.

"Good," he grunted, and turned to leave without another word. After all, being helpful didn't necessarily equate to being _nice._ The girl behind him watched him depart, surprised by his abruptness, before finally retreating herself, to explore the Garden more personally.

For his part, Squall leaned back against the wall of the elevator as it descended, his eyes closed, basking in the last bit of peace he expected to get on this long, critical day, the day he swore he _would_ become a SeeD.

* * *

-

* * *

**A/N:** Readers of the former Gunblade Saga may note significant differences in this chapter from the previous version, not the elast of which was a notable rewording of many exposition heavy paragraphs and the conversation between Squall and Seifer. Expect a reaosnable degree of exposition in the next few chapters, as well as some notable compression of events; I'm cutting out a lot of unnecessary sequences from the original Gunblade. For example, the entire Training Center chapter from the original is getting removed, and the relevant parts from it are being spread to other segments of the story. However, you should anticipate the Fire Cavern will still be present; I have a purpose and a role for it in this story. 

I should shortly be fuinishing edits and suggestions offered as to how to improve my prologue; in the meantime, I'd love plenty more constructive criticism as to this chapter. You can also expect me to start returning to Mako and finishing off Ronin, too.

Until next chapter...


	3. Chapter II: Trial by Fire

_**Chapter II: Trial by Fire**_

The small room was austere, which kept in line with the cadet's detachment and outward lack of emotion. There was a bed, a small desk, a telephone, and an alcove over the bed that housed a small number of textbooks: _Zak Na's Battle Tactics, Dumble's Theorems of Magic, Tzu Sun's War: The Art_, and the like. There were no pictures, no decorations, no posters, nothing beyond those work-related books and the barest necessities. The only object in the room that wasn't present in nearly every other cadet's quarters was the wide, four-foot-long metal case leaning against the wall, emblazoned with a silver silhouette of a roaring lion, matching the image on the chain of the cadet who dwelled in this room.

Squall Leonhart lifted the metal case and set it on his bed, and flicked the latches open. The interior of the container consisted of dark gray protective foam, within which were several cut-outs for him to place his gunblade, its ammunition, and its maintenance equipment. He pulled out the small box that held the gear to repair and maintain his weapon, and went to work on making sure it was battle-ready.

With a touch of his thumb and a flick of his wrist, the Revolver's cylinders rolled out to the side, and he removed each of the shells that went into the gun aspect. Contrary to popular belief, the gunblade didn't actually fire bullets; it had no opening at the end of the blade or barrel for the bullet to be propelled down. Rather, the gun aspect used battery-like "shells" to power potent concussive blasts that were fired down the weapon's length. If the trigger was pulled while the blade was in contact with an object, it could be blasted away with power equivalent to hundreds of pounds of pressure per square inch. If the weapon was fired while the blade had _penetrated_ an object, it would be like detonating a block of Composition Four buried inside the object in question.

Unfortunately, mastering that level of power was difficult. It required powerful concentration and strength to even be able to hold the gunblade while firing, and exceptional skill and awareness to know precisely when to pull the trigger on the weapon. Even handling the gunblade was difficult; the grip and the shape of the blade was so unusual that it required its own specialized style and method of combat. Squall had not only spent a great deal of time learning how to fence and strike with a normal sword, but had also spent hours on Garden's firing range perfecting his skills to better his understanding of his unique weapon.

A quick check of the concussive force shells showed that they were fully charged, and a careful observation and inspection of the interior of the weapon's gun aspect showed that it was in working order, needing only a quick wipe with a clean cloth to eliminate residue buildup. A visual inspection of the blade showed no nicks or scratches along its length, the exceptionally constructed blade withstanding the duel earlier that morning without harm. The cadet replaced his gunblade's shells and closed the cylinders, before sheathing the weapon.

He then drew, checked, and sheathed each of the two ten-inch stainless-steel knives he carried, one on his right hip belt and the other inside his jacket, along his left shoulder. They were not his primary weapons, but they _did_ serve as effective backup weaponry; there had been more than one incident in his past where those knives had saved his life. Every SeeD and cadet carried one, just in case.

Finally, he opened his small nightstand drawer and took out the holstered .45 M1911 sidearm he kept there. Doffing his jacket, the cadet affixed the holster for the magnum autoloader on his left flank, beneath and beside his knife and behind his jacket. He hadn't worn the .45 to training that morning, because he knew he wouldn't need it in a fencing session. Now, entering a combat situation, having his sidearm on hand would be prudent; it took a moment to focus and cast spells, while it took only an instant to draw, sight, and plant a pair of .45 slugs in someone's chest.

The entire process of inspection and arming took only a couple of minutes, but it felt much longer to the cadet as he went through the practiced, repetitive motions. In fact, the act of preparing for battle was as much a mental exercise to clear his mind as it was a physical exercise to ready himself for battle. The repetitive movements allowed Squall to focus his mind on the task at hand, whatever it was; in this case, that task was the Fire Cavern exam, and defeating the spirit that lay within.

Squall reached into the drawer that had contained his .45, and pulled out a small pouch. He emptied the contents of the pouch into his hand, and looked them over. They were two stones, small and nondescript, one made of a cool blue crystalline material, and the other like an amethyst gemstone. While neither stone was large or seemed out of the ordinary at first glance, the cadet could feel power throbbing off of them, even through the glove covering his palm. These two stones were part of what gave the SeeDs of Balamb Garden their exceptional edge, the manifestation of the power of a Guardian Force.

The cadet focused on the two stones, mentally touching the power he was feeling in his hands, and through that power, the entities that these small stones connected him to. Through the electrically violet rock, the cadet could feel the power and the mind of Quetzacotl, a powerful being of lightning and thunder, and through the icy crystal, he could sense the will of Shiva, a being of frost and cold. As their power touched him, he focused on it, pulling it in closer mentally, and the Guardian Forces answered the call, allowing their power to become one with him. He felt a faint jolt and an icy chill as both beings allowed their strength to flow into his body, and the stones appeared to break down into glowing blue and purple motes of light that seemingly melted into his hand.

As the GFs' strength joined with Squall's body, he felt his muscles, bones, and skin harden and tighten instantly. A faint breeze could be heard, that of the flowing air in the small room, which he had not been aware of earlier. He stood up, and he moved faster, more easily, despite the weight of his gear, as if its mass meant nothing to the cadet, and within him, he felt the touch of energy, the power of magic, all the more keenly. He knew this power, and he welcomed the strength of the Guardian Forces as he closed his gunblade's case and stepped out of the room, ready to meet whatever challenges awaited him in the Fire Cavern . . . and elsewhere.

* * *

The warm spring morning air caressed his face as he stepped outside the wide arch that marked the front entrance to the Garden. The chirps and songs of birds could be heard over the rushing water of outdoor waterfalls and pools, and the lush flora that marked the interior of the Garden was out in force on the exterior grounds. Squall wove his way through the numerous paved pathways that ran amongst the lawns and fountains, and eventually made his way down a wide staircase that led to the main gates. He stepped through the wrought iron entrance to the Garden grounds, and past the snarling gargoyle statues standing guard on either side of the gates, and out onto the curb next to the paved road that ran from the Garage and further southward. 

Aside from a couple of cadets walking up the road toward the entrance, and a two-man SeeD patrol on perimeter duty walking along the exterior of the grounds, there was no one in sight. Squall walked over to a bench and sat down, looking out over the rolling Alcud Plains of Balamb Island, the greenish-blue grass stretching out as far as he could see into the gently curving horizon.

The island itself was rather large, but sparsely habited. The largest town was Balamb Harbor, which amounted to just over ten thousand residents, most of them fishermen, dock workers, tourist handlers, or support personnel for Balamb Garden. Up until twelve years ago, when Garden had been founded, the island was smaller and much sleepier, but with the Garden's presence and Balamb Island's strategic location as a trading port between Trabia, Fisherman's Horizon, and Dollet, it was a fairly busy harbor nowadays. But aside from that port, there were only a few small villages along the coastlines, and the interior of the Island was largely wild and unsettled. Rolling, high-grassed plains, deep, thick forests, and rocky mountains made up the majority of the Island's terrain. That made for a good place to establish Balamb Garden, since the Gardens were, as a rule, built in more isolated and wild locations, allowing the cadets to hone their skills fighting feral monsters and surviving in the wilderness.

Squall turned around and looked back at his Garden, and up at the towering structure behind him. Rising over four hundred feet above the main grounds below, the central structure of Balamb Garden was as a giant white mountain, a rounded cone of creamy white, adorned with light blue designs and multi-colored embellishments. Encircling the top of the main structure was a titanic golden, glowing ring that serenely rotated around the Garden, held aloft by advanced anti-gravity technology that Squall had heard was procured from the eastern land of Esthar. A slender, teal-painted tower rose beyond the dorms complex and nearly touched the rotating ring, containing the control systems for the anti-gravity machinery.

No matter how many times he looked at his Garden, the cadet felt a sense of wonder. The Garden's Headmaster, Cid Kramer, had always been said to be a man who loved beauty and grace, and the Garden he had founded exemplified the man's sense of ethereal elegance.

As Squall gazed up at the ring overhead, he could hear the rumble of a heavy-duty engine, and turned in time to see a lightly armored four-wheeled vehicle pull up alongside the curb. It was compact and blocky, and painted in a blue-green camouflage pattern to break up its outline against the Balamb plains. A 7.62mm machinegun was mounted on its topside, alongside a grenade launcher. The SeeD Fighting Vehicle was Garden's main patrol and combat vehicle for light operations, and was most commonly used for patrolling the island or for contracts calling for rapid overland deployment.

Squall stood up and walked over to the SFV as soon as he saw the identity of the driver. He opened the passenger door and climbed in, sitting down on the lightly-padded metal seat next to Quistis as she smiled and accelerated once more.

"Are you ready?" she asked as she drove south down the road, and then started to turn to the left toward the east. Squall nodded silently, glancing to her, and saw that she was ready for combat as well. She'd changed out of her black and gold SeeD dress uniform and into a more comfortable outfit, consisting of a peach-colored zip-up blouse and knee-length peach skirt. Detached black sleeves ran from her shoulders to her fingertips, and black boots encased her lower legs. Her weapon of choice, a coiled rante, otherwise known as a chained whip, was at her hip, the curving blade at the end of the weapon sheathed in leather. Her sidearm and knife were holstered on her left hip as well.

The SFV began to bounce as Quistis left the beaten path and crossed the Alcud Plains, veering south to circle around the forests directly east of the Garden. While there were vehicle paths through the woods, the forest was the home of some very large and particularly nasty beasts and fiends, and neither of them wanted to waste their time potentially getting entangled with such creatures.

Quistis heard the clicking of a firearm's magazine being removed, and glanced over at her passenger, to see Squall having drawn his M1911 and ejected the clip. He glanced down into the magazine, checking the bullets, before reloading the weapon and sliding it back into its holster. She understood the motions and what they meant; whenever Squall was bored or nervous, he would fiddle with his weapons, checking, cleaning, or loading them.

"You nervous?" she asked him, and he glanced to her, before shrugging.

"Why?" he asked, and she sighed at the neutral response.

"This is the first time you've actually gone up against a Guardian Force," she replied. "Tackling Ifrit isn't a simple task, you know." He shrugged again, as if he didn't really care. In truth, he _was_ a little apprehensive, though he knew that this test was nothing compared to the Field Exam he'd be dealing with later on. Ifrit was the final test for a SeeD cadet before they could take their exam, and for good reason: the only way Ifrit acknowledged one's worth to possess his power involved a direct battle between that person and Ifrit's avatar. While the other primary Balamb Garden GFs were more peaceful - a cadet merely needed to locate their avatars' resting places on the island - Ifrit judged those who would junction him based on worth as warriors, and his lair was structured accordingly, set up as inhospitable and dangerous. While no one had been killed going up against Ifrit thus far, many cadets and even SeeDs had been injured facing him.

Half an hour later, the SFV had finished skirting the edge of the forest and was driving along a road running up the eastern cliffs of Balamb Island. The blue sea flowed and crashed far below them as the ascended the rocky hills toward the Fire Cavern. The air slowly became warmer, going from pleasant to sweating, and the scent of sulfur started to fill the air as they rounded a rocky bend in the road. Plant life faded, replaced by gray stone, and finally they passed a large metal sign warning that they were approaching the Fire Cavern. A few moments later, the road came to a halt at the base of a cliff, where a dark, reddish-black cleft in the cliff face could be seen. Two SeeDs, along with two Garden Faculty, flanked the entrance, the Faculty clad in their traditional red and white robes, their faces hidden beneath hoods and wide yellow hats.

The Instructor and her cadet dismounted and walked up toward the entrance. The SeeDs, there for security and escort, said nothing, while the two Faculty straightened. Their body language suggested boredom, which was fitting, as this was the last day of this semester when the Fire Cavern exam could be taken, and they hadn't been expecting anymore cadets to show up to challenge Ifrit.

"You are here to take the Fire Cavern exam, correct?" one of them asked in his usual harsh, no-nonsense tone. Squall nodded, stood at attention, and saluted, holding his right hand before his face, palm directed toward him.

"Squall Leonhart, Cadet Senior, Four-One-Two-Six-Nine," he stated, and the second Faculty nodded.

"Who is your SeeD support for this operation?" the first asked, and Quistis immediately saluted as well.

"Quistis Trepe, Instructor Fourteen," she answered, and the Faculty nodded, before turning to Squall.

"Cadet, select a time limit, from ten to forty minutes."

"Ten minutes," Squall answered immediately. Quistis glanced at him, surprised, expecting him to opt for a more prudent time limit. The limit was used to judge a cadet's aggression and bravery versus their prudence and caution, but selecting to short a limit could come off as being brash, overzealous, or overconfident. Yet, as she watched Squall speak, she saw no signs of overconfidence or the like; instead, all she saw was steely determination.

"Understood," replied the Faculty, without missing a beat. "The clock will begin ticking the second you enter the cave behind us. You are ready?"

"I am," Squall replied evenly, and the two faculty stepped aside, leaving the entrance to the Fire Cavern open and inviting, like a welcome sign to Hell.

"Begin."

* * *

The exterior of the Fire Cavern had been hot and carried the scent of sulfur. The interior of the cavern was sweltering and stank of fire and brimstone. Squall moved inside the entrance and along a long, twisting passage overlooking a river of roiling orange and black magma below. Sweat started pouring down his brow, and he could feel the drafts of hot air flowing through the cavern, some potentially hot enough to give them third degree burns. 

Even though he had little time to dawdle, Squall paused for a moment, focusing on the energies that dwelled within his body, the power of what many called "magic." He shifted the way the energies played within his body, focusing on the magic of heat and flame, and interweaving that element into his own body in such a way that it shielded him from the heat of the Fire Cavern. While it didn't make him invulnerable to the flames of the creatures and terrain of the cave, it would make his body _more_ resistant to searing temperatures.

"Are you ready?" Quistis asked from behind him, and he nodded, drawing his gunblade. He started forward, advancing in a manner that was between a purposeful stalk and a hurried jog. His head kept turning as he moved between a series of stalagmites jutting out of the path before them, and started down an incline into a more open segment of the Cavern. Quistis trailed after him, watching his movements closely. He showed no apparent fear or hesitation, only a stalwart will to press onward.

"You know," she commented quietly, barely audible over the flowing magma below. "Most of the other cadets choke up when I take them on this test." He didn't respond physically, but she did catch him mutter a quiet, almost annoyed _"Whatever"_ over his shoulder as he continued down the path. She followed after him, frowning at his dismissal.

"I'm just trying to keep you relaxed," she commented as he moved head. Suddenly, he stopped, tensing, and Quistis came to a halt as well, grasping the handle of her rante. She pulled the chain whip off her belt and grasped the weapon near its head, keeping it short and coiled while ready to strike. Squall took a step ahead, and then the air was filled with screeched and the rustle of flapping wings.

Squall and Quistis reacted instantly. The cadet stepped forward as the creatures surrounding them closed in, screeching and diving, and his gunblade arced across in a wide cut. Blood, steaming hot from the heat of the cavern, splashed over the weapon as the creature he had struck fell to the stone path, squealing in pain. The gunblade arced backward, in a vicious cleave that ripped straight through another of the creatures, sending its lower half sprawling to the floor while the upper, winged portion flew off the side of the path. Another of the winged creatures dove at him, but the Revolver turned and angled toward it, the curving tip stabbing into the fiend's upper torso as it descended. Squall depressed the trigger on his gunblade, and watched the monster splatter apart as the shock of concussive force rippled down the gunblade's length. Another beast flew through the flying mist of the previous fiend, and Squall's weapon met it with a quick, brutal cleave that bit into its head.

Quistis' whip flew out with a flick of her wrist, and she stepped back, giving Squall the room he would need to avoid being hit by her blade. One of the monsters dove for Squall's backside as he was cutting another down, but he chain whip intercepted the creature, the second half of the chain wrapping around its body and spinning the blade around to stab into the creature's side. Another beast descended, but this one dove for Quistis as she snapped her whip out, throwing the dead monster off the blade. The last creature dropped toward her, but well before it reached the SeeD Instructor, her left hand had dropped to her hip, snapped up her sidearm, and fired twice. The resounding reports of the two gunshots filled the cavern as the fiend fell backward, two gaping holes in its chest.

There were no other enemies threatening her, and she looked toward Squall, to see him step over one monster's corpse and stab his weapon into the wounded fiend he'd injured at the start of the battle. Aside from that last creature, none of the winged monsters had stayed to challenge them, apparently smart enough to know when outmatched. Certainly they could see how Squall had massacred a half-dozen of them in almost as few seconds.

Without missing a beat, Squall stepped over the winged monster corpses and pressed on, now advancing more purposefully. Quistis pursued as her student advanced, almost seeming to not care if she was following him or not. His bravery and cool impressed Quistis; she'd seen cadets who would have been rattled by that sudden encounter, but Squall showed no fear, and his prowess and efficiency were undeniable.

They advanced over a narrowing portion of the stone passage through the cavern, which twisted toward the center of the Fire Cavern and the place where Ifrit rested. Like everything else in the cave, it seemed to be naturally sculpted, but there was a nagging impression that it had been shaped this way deliberately by an external force, perhaps the Guardian Force's own will. If any of these fears or thoughts affected Squall, however, he showed no sign of it, instead pressing onward, resolute and determined to finish this part of the exam. He moved down the path, to a point where the stone passage nearly touched the magma below. The heat continued to increase, becoming almost unbearable to an unjunctioned human. Both SeeD and cadet could feel the heat of the air with each breath as they moved toward Ifrit's lair.

"Making good time," remarked Quistis as they neared the center of the cavern. "You've got six minutes left to take Ifrit down." He nodded, but didn't speak, instead stalking forward, eyes open and ready for another ambush from any of the Cavern's denizens. Moments later, they approached the heart of the cavern, a small island connected to the stone path, curving, twisted stalagmites rising up out of the rock and magma, glowing red and yellow with intense inner heat. In the middle of the twisted, jutting stone, a single white-hot gap in the island could be seen, the core of the Fire Cavern and where Ifrit lurked.

There was silence as they stood there, before the Guardian Force's home, and Squall took a step forward. He glanced back at Quistis, who stood a safe distance away from the cadet; it was her role to advise and heal her student, but the task of defeating Ifrit lay entirely in the younger warrior's hands.

There was the faintest rumble, and a tremble ran through the stone beneath them. A deep, echoing sound emerged from the air and the lava around them, shaking their bones with its bass undertones.

_**I am Ifrit. You are here to challenge me?**_

Squall clenched his gunblade tightly, and nodded.

"I am," he grunted, not very loudly, but audible over the flowing magma.

_**Name yourself.**_

"Squall Leonhart," the cadet announced. The quiet shudder of the cavern continued for several long moments.

The dull rumble burst into a shuddering cacophony of violence, and Squall was nearly thrown off his feet and red and white light burst from the fissure in which Ifrit lurked. Stones and magma lanced up out of the hole in the ground, and something even larger emerged, a titanic monster over twelve feet in height, fiery red hair running between two curving black horns that stretched back behind its head. The huge beast, shaped like a tremendously muscled, hunched-over human with fire-burnt skin, rose up from the fissure and stepped onto the stone island before the cadet.

_**I accept.**_

Ifrit wasted no further time, instead dashing forward, its massive legs pumping as it crossed the distance between itself and the cadet in a blur of frightening speed. Its left arm cocked back and shot down in a brutally fast punch that smashed into the surprised cadet's chest and hurled him backward along the stone path. Quistis backed away, not wishing to interfere in their battle by getting too close. Squall rolled over the stone as his Instructor retreated, and then shoved himself up to his feet. Ifrit, towering above Squall, snarled and gestured with a hand, beckoning him to approach. The Guardian Force knew of SeeD's training protocols, and that this cadet had no time to waste.

Squall raised his gunblade and charged fearlessly at the Guardian Force, which clenched its hands and sent a swift jab at the cadet as he closed in. Squall twisted aside, blackened skin nearly brushing his face, and snapped his gunblade down upon the Guardian Force's arm as it cut past. The Revolver bit into the GF's muscles, and the avatar roared in pain as Squall dove under the extended arm and past the spirit. The Revolver slashed across as Squall passed, and he depressed the gunblade's trigger. There was a flash of light and a burst of sound, and the cadet could feel a wave of heat roll out of the wound in Ifrit's side, as if the avatar bled fire.

Squall spun around as he passed the GF, and turned to _see_ fire coming out of Ifrit's side, from where the gaping wound had been blasted. The avatar spun on the cadet, snarling, its eyes like molten pits of gold. It raised a hand, as if preparing to throw something at the cadet, and Squall dove aside as the arm came forward, a bolt of flame cutting past where he had stood an instant before. Squall came out of the dive with his legs pumping, propelling him toward the Guardian Force. Ifrit started to lower an arm to defend its body, when the Revolver stabbed into the spirit's gut. The Guardian Force's pained roar resounded in the cadet's ears as he pulled the gunblade's trigger, and a two-foot-wide gap erupted, flames bursting from the injury.

Ifrit lashed out with an open palm that shot down into Squall's face, launching the cadet backward and tearing the gunblade free of its wound. Growling like an enraged freight train, Ifrit crouched as Squall rolled to a stop and stood up. The GF's hand dipped into the magma, and came up grasping a ball of molten rock between its fingers. With a roar, the avatar's arm flew forward, and the ball of fiery stone lanced toward Squall. His eyes widened in alarm and he spun aside, the fiery rock slapping against a stalagmite behind him.

Squall came out of the spin with his left arm shooting up at the GF, focusing on a counter to Ifrit's flame attacks. Within him, energy welled up, the power of ice and cold shooting into his fingers, chilling his hand as the magic surged into his fingertips and coalesced into a mass of frigid cold magic and ice crystals. He released the spell, the ice discharging from his fingers in a stream of bladed icicles and absolute cold that stabbed into the burning wound in the GF's gut and dug deep. The power of frost and cold sapped at the avatar's own fiery essence, and it reeled backward, thundering in pain, the roar shaking both cadet and watching Instructor's bones.

The roar redoubled as Squall dove in again, this time stabbing his gunblade into the spirit's chest and firing another blast, further opening the burning injuries in its body. Without missing a step, Squall leapt up, left hand grabbing one of Ifrit's horns, and his boots planting against the avatar's blasted torso. His right arm tore the gunblade out of its chest and angled the blade up into Ifrit's chin. Squall stabbed upward, and the gunblade slid up inside Ifrit's jaw and out the top of its head.

_That_ got the Guardian Force's full and undivided attention. As fire shout both its jaw and skull, both of Ifrit's hands slapped together over Squall's torso, and the Guardian Force's fingers wrapped around his chest. Snarling through its blasted head, the GF pulled Squall down and tore the offending gunblade free, and then spun around and _spiked_ Squall straight into the stone path.

Fragments of broken rock flew through the air as Squall bounced off the cracked stone and rolled away, Ifrit roaring in triumph. Quistis could only stare at the surprising act of brutality on the Guardian Force's part; Ifrit fought based on its perceptions of an individual's strengths and capabilities, and this level of aggression was unprecedented. She'd never seen the GF fight like this before, even when she had come to face him three years ago.

Her shock did not get in the way of her duties, or her concern for Squall. She rushed up to his side as he shakily stood, grasped his shoulder, and focused, calling up the forces of life and restoration. Green and white energy played from her fingers and over Squall's body as he rose, the magical healing spell coursing through his body and into the injuries he was doubtless suffering from. Ifrit's last attack would have splattered a normal human into paste, but Squall was only viciously battered and bruised by the impact.

"Thanks," she heard him grunt as he rose, grasping his gunblade more tightly, and she nodded as he turned to face Ifrit.

"You've got three minutes left," she warned him, and he nodded, clenching his teeth as he prepared to advance on the Guardian Force once more. Ifrit waited patiently for the next round of the battle, but its avatar seemed to be a bit more tired, its muscles sagging and its stance drooping. Squall took a single, deliberate step toward the GF, and Ifrit snorted.

Both of its hands shot forward in an instant, and two gouts of flame shot out at the SeeD cadet. Squall ducked low, rolling underneath the spears of hellish fire, and scrambled toward the Guardian Force. Ifrit's avatar raised a hand to strike at Squall as he closed in, but the cadet suddenly shifted his stance and dove forward, whipping his legs in front of him and sliding between Ifrit's feet. The Revolver lashed out as Squall passed between the spirit's legs, and Ifrit snarled in pain as both of its ankles were cut open by the gunblade.

Squall kicked up onto his feet as Ifrit spun around, smashing one arm straight into the stone in a sudden, brutal overhead strike. Squall was already evading the blow even as it fell, and scrambled around Ifrit. The Revolver sliced up into the GF's side as Squall passed, and another blast from his gunblade sent the spirit roaring and stumbling. Ifrit fell to a knee, but only for an instant, rising and starting to turn toward Squall immediately. That fact allowed Squall to make a quick, heartening conclusion.

_He's weakening._

Ifrit was still turning when the cadet made his move. Squall dug his feet into the stone, reversing his momentum, and kicked up into the air. His left hand grasped the GF's long red hair, and his right thrust the Revolver into the Guardian's middle back as both the cadet's boots braced against the avatar's back. The gunblade slid into the Guardian Force's flesh, and Squall pulled the trigger.

A shuddering blast shook the spirit as hit spun around, arms reaching back and trying to pull the tenacious cadet off of it. Squall refused to weaken his grip, and he fired a second blast with his gunblade, the detonation overshadowed only by the avatar's roars of anger and pain. Gritting his teeth as he felt flames splashing over his hand, Squall fired a third blast, and was nearly thrown off Ifrit's back as the avatar collapsed forward to its hands and knees.

Comparative silence filled the cavern as Ifrit panted, Squall standing on its back and still holding its hair, his gunblade buried into the GF's back up to its revolver aspect. After several long moments of stillness and hesitation, the cadet felt the Guardian Force's muscles slacken and its shoulders sag.

_**I yield to you.**_

Squall pulled his gunblade free immediately and dropped off the Guardian Force's back. He stepped around in front of the mighty avatar of fire as it slowly rose to one knee, and fixed the cadet with his molten gaze.

**_You have defeated me in fair combat, Squall Leonhart_**, the Guardian Force's voice rumbled and hissed, like crackling fire, but the mouth of its avatar did not move as it spoke.

**_For me to lose to a human . . . I will obey the ancient terms. You have passed my challenge._** The Guardian raised its left hand and clenched it tightly. A tremor shot through the cavern, and out of the stone before the cadet rose a small, red-hot stalagmite, glowing with fiery veins throughout. The tip of the stalagmite peeled away, to reveal a small, glittering red ruby.

Squall nodded, and reached forward, taking the stone from the stalagmite. Instantly, the molten rock collapsed and flowed into the sea of magma surrounding them, and Ifrit rose to both feet, the avatar's gaping, flaming wounds fading.

_**My avatar is at your call.**_

With that, the demonic body of Ifrit's spirit began to catch ablaze, the fires burning away its skin and consuming the entire body of the spirit in a white-hot inferno. The avatar became indistinct, and finally vanished into the bright fires, which then dissipated completely, once more leaving the Fire Cavern silent beyond the roiling magma.

Squall turned back to Quistis as he focused on the stone. The ruby gem began to glow, and break down in his hand, collapsing into his glove and flowing into his body, bringing with it a flush of heat as Ifrit took a place within his mind and flesh. A sense of satisfaction filled the cadet as he looked to Quistis, who seemed amazed at how calm he was after having so handily defeated the mighty Ifrit.

"Did I pass?" he asked her, and she slowly nodded.

"Thirty seconds to spare," she replied, still surprised at how readily Squall had put the Guardian Force to task.

"Good," he replied, and started walking past her. Though he had beaten Ifrit, he was under no illusions that this was the end of his trials for the moment. "Let's get the rest of this day over with, then."

Capturing Ifrit or not, he still hadn't made SeeD yet, and _that_ was all that mattered.

* * *

-

* * *

**A/N:** As you should have noted, this chapter was structured so as to provide some details as to the nature of Guardian Forces and magic. I hope the exposition in this chapter flowed a little more smoothly than it did in previous chapters. 

You may have also noted the expanded use of firearms by the SeeDs in this version of the story. I've tried working out a practical reason as to why melee weapons would be favored over rifles and guns in such an advanced setting and, since I haven't been able to develop a perfect explanation as to why SeeD _wouldn't_ issue firearms to their troops, I've opted to simply toss the whole thing out the window and have them use firearms as well as melee weapons against human opponents. Squall's sidearm is actually the Colt M1911, a .45 ACP handgun that was the standard-issue sidearm of American troops for most of the 20th century, and is still being used today. What can I say, I'm a bit sentimental, and I love the gun.

Ifrit's speech and focus are worth noting here; I opted to have the Guardian Forces speak with bolded, italicized words with no quotation marks, to emphasize their "otherworldly" nature. You may have also noted that I referred to Ifrit, the Guardian Force, as a "him" while during the battle I called the avatar an "it." This was intentional. The Guardian Force itself, and the creatures that are fought and summoned, are separate within this story; the avatars are simply manifestations of the GF's power in the "real" world.

I'm also rather disappointed with the reviews from last chapter; you guys didn't rip me apart! Though I suppose that might be a _good_ thing, if you guys were looking for stuff to find wrong and failed to find anything...

Until next chapter...


	4. Chapter III: Operation Chromite

****

Chapter III: Operation Chromite

"I guess I was right," Quistis remarked as she and Squall walked up the corridor leading from the Garage. "You and Seifer both have amazing potential. I've never seen anyone take the ten-minute challenge before and manage to defeat Ifrit in time."

Squall didn't reply verbally, and barely shrugged in response. He didn't care much one way or another about Quistis' approval or how he compared with Seifer. He was just glad that the Fire Cavern exam was complete and that he would qualify for the Field Exam.

"We've got two hours before we need to meet for the initial brief and head to Balamb Harbor," Quistis continued as they walked back into the main Garden building, the ceiling arcing far overhead. She glanced sideways at the cadet. "You should get changed into your cadet BDU's and meet in front of the elevator at the front entrance then. Understood?"

Squall nodded, but didn't say anything else. Quistis waited a few seconds, hoping he would make any further response, but the cadet didn't share anything with her, as usual. With a quiet, barely audible sigh, she turned off and headed for the elevators and her office on the third floor, while Squall walked away toward the west side of the building, as if she wasn't even there.

His room was still as bare and austere as it had been hours ago. With no roommate and no reputation for being particularly sociable, Squall rarely had visitors in his dorm room. He walked inside, doffing his jacket as he did so, and removing his boots and pants. The closet door slid open, and from within the cadet took out a set of dark blue pants and a dark blue jacket with silver shoulders: his cadet uniform. He silently slipped on the pants and jacket, but left the uniform jacket open so that he would be able to reach his sidearm easily. Garden policy made no distinction between wearing the jacket opened or closed anyway.

The Revolver clicked open, and Squall reached toward the weapon's cylinder. He removed the concussive force shell that had been firing during the battle with Ifrit, and checked it, noting that it was halfway depleted. He dropped it on his bed, took a second shell off of his leg bandoleers, and slid it into place. The cadet snapped the weapon shut, and then looked to his left hand as he did so.

A slight tremor ran through it, and he tried to still that hand.

Like it or not, Squall Leonhart had never fought a human in a real-life, kill-or-be-killed combat situation before. He'd sparred, he'd dueled, and he'd killed monsters and fiends, but spilling the blood of a human wasn't something he'd ever done before, and though he had trained extensively for this day, a twinge of apprehension still clung to him as he prepared for war.

His life had been in danger before today; the monsters in the Training Center didn't hold back, and at least one cadet had been killed there nearly seven years ago. Squall himself had nearly been ripped apart by one of the more dangerous denizens of the island, until a well-placed knife to the eye had driven the fiend away. But humans weren't like hungry or territorial fiends; they were smart, adaptive, intelligent, and deadly if underestimated, especially by an unwary SeeD.

A loss of respect for your enemy's capacity to kill you will result in your swift, painful, and all too unexpected death.

That was one of Zak Na's core principles of combat, and one Squall adhered to closely. Unfortunately, Zak Na didn't prepare a man for the realization that he would be possibly killing other human beings.

Squall looked down at his gunblade and at its razor-sharp edge, and slowly inhaled and exhaled. He flipped the weapon's cylinders open again, and checked it, before cloasing and slowly sheathing the weapon, not releasing the blade until he felt the faint _click_ of a sword secured in its scabbard.

Unfortunately, a soldier couldn't pick his battles, and Squall had acquainted and reconciled himself with the notion that he would have to kill before he became a SeeD. He was just going to have to rely on himself, his training, and his team today; morality and humanity were alien concepts when swords were drawn and rifles sighted. He would have to either kill or die today.

The cadet did one last quick check of his gear and let out another long, calming breath, before turning and exiting his dorm room. He repeated that mantra over and over in his mind as he walked down the hallway leading out of the complex. Fight, kill, and win. Fail, lose, and die. There were no other alternatives. He would have to be tough enough and strong enough to hold his own, to stand up on his own without anyone's help.

Squall Leonhart was _determined_ to stand on his own, no matter what.

* * *

"No, not_ today_." 

Quistis shook her head as she read the unit listings that had been assigned today, prior to the Field Exam. She had barely finished filing Squall's completion of the Fire Cavern test when the new information had been finalized, and she realized who would be teamed with whom. The test administrators had to either be stupid or ignorant to have laid out the squads as they had.

"Something wrong, Quistis?" came a voice from the front of her office, and the blonde Instructor looked up, and shook her head a second time.

"No, sir," she responded, and Headmaster Cid Kramer, Balamb Garden's founder and the overall authority in regards to its academics and personnel, chuckled at the quick response.

"Don't lie to me," the older man replied, and he walked into her office. He was small, barely over five and a half feet, and portly, his stomach poking past his chest. He adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses as he stepped up beside the Instructor, smiling as always, and looked over her computer screen with his brown eyes.

"Oh," he remarked as he saw the personnel assignments for the upcoming exam. He chuckled quietly and shook his head. "So that's how it has to be, then?"

"Headmaster, the squads are-"

"Perfectly fine, Quistis," he responded immediately, brushing some of his combed brown hair out of his eyes. "These three on Bravo Squad were chosen because they have such conflicting personalities. There is significant animosity between them and their squad leader, which is perfectly fine."

"I don't understand," Quistis replied, and looked back to the screen. She tapped two names. "These two are more likely to kill each other than work together. And Squall won't be happy at all with working with either of them."

"Which is why they're together in the first place," Cid responded, straightening and scratching at the thin, patchy brown stubble on his chin. "If those two can follow orders from someone they dislike, and the three of them can work together despite their differences, then they're more than suitable for SeeD. I'd rather have people who can work together despite conflicting personalities and histories than a squad who can only function when in perfect harmony. Understand?"

Quistis sat back, considering Cid's words. She removed her glasses and rubbed her eyes, before finally nodding.

"You're a lot more devious than you look," she muttered, and chuckled. Cid laughed as well, and patted her on the shoulder.

"When you fight through a couple of wars, run an orphanage, and then found and run a worldwide private military company for twelve years, you _too_ will start to get a little devious." She nodded, and he turned and walked out of her office.

"I've got some work to do," he called as he exited the room. "There's so much that needs taking care of for this exam. Let me know if you have any more concerns, Quistis."

* * *

The area that the cadets were supposed to meet at was located before the elevator column at the heart of the main structure, along the walkway leading toward the entrance. Squall moved out toward the meeting site, but immediately spied a large gathering of cadets, well over two dozen, idling around the area. Spotting a location along the edge of the walkway that wasn't close to any of the prospective SeeD cadets, he moved toward it and leaned against the edge of the railing overlooking the water. He toned out the murmurs of conversing cadets as he waited for their superiors to arrive to hand out unit assignments. 

"Squall!" came a call, and the cadet looked up, to see Quistis, standing next to the large directory before the stairs leading to the elevators. She waved to him, a clipboard in her other hand. Hesitating only a moment, the cadet peeled himself away from the railing and walked toward her.

"I'm your squad's observer and officer for this exam," she explained, and he nodded absently, unsurprised. "You've been assigned to Bravo Squad." She glanced at the clipboard. "You've been paired with . . . Zell Dincht."

Squall frowned, not happy with the selection for his squadmate. Like Squall himself, Zell had been part of Garden for a long time, and was an excellent fighter, especially in hand-to-hand, but his aggression and hot temper were often cause for more trouble than benefit. He'd rather not have someone that unpredictable on his team.

"Can't I switch team members?" Squall asked, but he doubted he'd get his wish. Quistis' quick shake of the head confirmed his fears.

"I'm sorry," she replied. "Team assignments have been chosen and set." She looked around the lobby, and raised her voice as she spotted the cadet in question. "Zell Dincht! Over here!" Squall followed her eyes to where one cadet, a small, muscular figure with spiked blonde hair, was trading blows with an imaginary opponent. The cadet looked up in Quistis' general direction, nodded, and started moving toward them. Suddenly, however, his body tipped forward, and he dove into a flipping cartwheel that flowed into a backflip. He came out of the flip smiling and giving Quistis a thumbs-up, though Squall remained impassive, unimpressed by the hyperactive cadet's acrobatics.

"You're on Bravo Squad, Zell," she explained, and nodded toward Squall. "Squall's in your unit as well." The blonde cadet's eyes widened, stretching the lack lightning tattoo cutting across the left side of his face.

"Whoa!" he remarked. "I'm teamed with you?" He turned toward the taciturn cadet, and extended a hand. "Cool, man, I've seen you in action before. This is going to rock!" Squall, for his part, simply looked down at Zell's hand, and then back at the cadet, and his arms remained by his side. After a moment, Zell lowered his hand, understanding that the legendarily anti-social Squall Leonhart wouldn't be shaking hands today. The brawler then glanced at the cadet's face, and noted the angry cut running between his eyes and over his nose.

"Oh, yeah, heard about what happened this morning with Seifer," he remarked, brow furrowing in anger. "Bastard's insane. I heard he whooped you pretty badly."

"We weren't fighting," Squall replied immediately, almost sharply. "We were training."

"Yeah, I bet he's thinking the same thing," Zell replied sarcastically. "That's why he kicked the hell out of you and then cut your face open, right?" Squall frowned, and glared at Zell, warning him to drop this line of conversation.

"That's-" he began to say.

"-none of your business," Quistis finished, and both cadets looked to her, Squall's expression switching to annoyance at her ability to predict his lines.

"Anyway, that Seifer you guys are talking about?" she added. "He's your Squad Leader."

"The _hell?"_ Zell cursed, loud enough for both himself and Squall, and Quistis nodded. Squall muttered something unpleasant under his breath, and realized that today was going to get even worse. Not only was he teamed with someone as high-strung as Zell, but he had _Seifer_ of all people in charge.

"It can't be changed," she replied apologetically. "Seifer?" As she spoke, the crowd of cadets parted slightly, and from their midst strode Seifer Almasy, smiling as he advanced. Behind him trailed a huge, bulky, dark-skinned teenager and a much smaller woman, with pale skin, ash-gray hair, and a decorative eye patch over her left eye. Squall narrowed his eyes as he saw Seifer and his "posse," the wildly mismatched brother and sister pair of Fujin and Raijin Matsuda. Seifer, for his part, was still wearing his white coat, and not in uniform like the rest of the cadets.

"Seifer, you're out of uniform," Quistis remarked, and he glanced down at himself, before smiling.

"You know that this is _way_ more stylish than some cadet's outfit," he replied, and she straightened.

"You will not be able to participate in this exam without your uniform," she stated firmly, and with an air of finality. "After you receive your squad assignment you _will_ return to your dorm and change, or I will personally remove you from this test. Understood?" Seifer blinked, surprised at Quistis' serious tone, and his expression seemed completely incredulous.

"Do you understand, _Cadet Almasy_?" she stated, ice water in her voice, and he finally nodded.

"Yes, _Instructor_," he replied, though his tone was more anger than respect.

"Good," she responded, nodding. "You're the Squad Leader for Bravo. Good luck." For her part, she seemed like she wasn't too thrilled with his position, and Squall agreed with her feelings.

"Instructor," Seifer replied, a grin starting to return to his face. "I hate it when people wish me luck. Save those for a bad student who needs them, eh?" Behind him, Seifer's comrades nodded.

"Okay then," Quistis replied, matching his smile. "Good luck_, Seifer_."

Squall admitted that it was satisfying to see the expression on Seifer's face from that delivery. His eyes widened in surprise, and then narrowed dangerously. He wasn't too happy with being shown up not once, but _twice_, in a matter of moments by his Instructor.

"Fine then, _Instructor,_" he growled in response. Quistis nodded, and turned to the rest of the squad.

"Remember that you're going to be in hostile territory," she explained. "There's only three of you, so work together."

"And by 'work together,'" Seifer cut in with a wide grin, "She means 'stay out of my way.' It's a Bravo Squad rule, so don't forget it!"

Zell managed an aggravated sneer at that proclamation, while Squall simply glanced aside at Seifer's usual arrogance, shrugging it off. He was used to such theatrics. Behind the squad, Quistis shook her head and rubbed her temples, and Squall could tell that she was already feeling what would undoubtedly not be the last headache for this operation.

"Atten-_tion_!"

The authoritative bark filled the air, and all of the assembled cadets turned toward the elevator platform and the speaker standing there, their backs straightening and arms slackening to their sides. Even Seifer moved to attention at the order.

"Good afternoon," came a call from atop the stairs, and the cadets could see the portly, older figure of Headmaster Cid Kramer as he started down the steps toward them. A proud, welcoming smile covered his face as he looked over the gaggle of cadets, and behind him stood fifteen men and women, clad in simple black jackets and trousers, with rugged combat boots. Each of them had a melee weapon sheathed at their side or strapped to their back, and a standard-issue M4A1 carbine slung over their shoulders.

"Its been a while, everyone," he began. "We've had a busy semester, preparing all of you for this day, but here is finally is. The Field Exam." He looked out over the group, and nodded. "This operation will consist of one platoon of thirty-six cadets and two lances of fifteen SeeDs. You will be proceeding onto a real battlefield; there won't be any stun bullets, padding, or undercharged spells being flung around here. But you should know that already."

He extended a hand into the air, as if grasping something, and continued, his tone shifting from friendly and inviting to something much more serious.

"We are all soldiers here," he stated. "I served my time with the Balamb militia nearly two decades ago, so I know what you are about to be sent into. Life and death, victory and defeat, honor and disgrace . . . This all await you on the field of battle today. These all go hand in hand; there is only one or the other. It is up to you and your team to decide which you will take." Squall did not respond verbally, but he frowned at the Headmaster's implications; he didn't believe in relying on his teammates. Relying on others got one killed.

Cid brought lowered his hand, and swept his gaze across the assembled throng of cadets.

"Are you still up for it, cadets?" he asked loudly and authoritatively.

_"Sir, yes sir!"_ The resounding response erupted from the assembled cadets, even from Squall and Seifer, though the former did not respond enthusiastically, and the latter grunted it under his breath.

"You will obey the SeeDs who will lead you on this operation," Cid continued. "As well as the officers in charge of your individual squadrons and lances. Follow their lead and their orders and complete the mission. Prove yourself _worthy_ of becoming a SeeD."

He took a step back, and nodded one last time.

"Best of luck. Dismissed." As he spoke, one of the SeeDs, a Sergeant Major, stepped forward.

"Cadet platoon!" he called. "On the order of 'fall out,' report to the Armory and receive your rifles, and then proceed to the Garage for deployment. _Fall out_!"

The cadets dropped out of their attention stance and broke up, the majority of the group moving out around the elevator column and toward the Garage, with the exception of Seifer, who made his way back to his dorm to change into his uniform, a sullen expression marking his face.

The platoon moved into the short hallway connecting to the garage, and paused at the armory station to pick up additional weapons. Squall selected an M4A1 on one of the weapon racks and hefted it, checking the weapon over once quickly, and nodding. He slung the rifle over his shoulder and scooped up three pairs of magazines, bound together in protective plastic wrap, and stuffed them into his jacket. All around him, other cadets were doing the same, most of them picking up rifles, though a few grabbed shotguns off a rack further down.

Fully armed, the cadets continued on into the garage, where a series of SFVs and armored personnel carriers awaited, with drivers and Instructors directing their troops into particular vehicles. Quistis led Squall and Zell to one of the armored transports, and they piled in. Even as Squall settled into one of the hard-cushioned seats in the back, he could hear footsteps outside, and looked back in time to see Seifer bound up into the transport, clad in his cadet uniform, though he wore the jacket open. Somehow, without his coat, he seemed a little smaller.

Casting a mocking sneer to Quistis, Seifer dropped into one of the seats, across from Squall, and leaned back, crossing his arms. An instant later, they were pushed back toward the rear of the APC as the transport started forward, rapidly exiting the Garage and rolling onto the roads outside of Garden.

The next ten minutes consisted almost entirely of silence, with the exception of the APC's engine. No one was interested in speaking at that moment, as there wasn't anything to really talk about. Zell sat beside Squall, his fingers tapping nervously against the seat cushion, one of his legs pumping slightly as he sat there in nervous anticipation. Seifer was alternating between inspecting his gunblade and glaring at the top of Squall's head as the taciturn cadet stared at the floor, calming his nerves and mentally preparing himself for the upcoming battle. Quistis remained cool and silent, calmly looking through several files on her clipboard and occasionally glancing up at the cadets to make sure they weren't tearing each other's eyeballs out.

Zell kept glancing around the small, enclosed cabin, and the silence seemed to unnerve him. He turned toward Squall, not wanting to disturb Quistis or even speak to Seifer, and then noted the gunblade in the other cadet's scabbard. Always one to be curious about machines, the weapon piqued his interest.

"Hey, Squall," he remarked. "Can I see your gunblade?"

Squall, for his part, did not even look up, and certainly did not want Zell to handle his weapon. He pushed the brawler's question away with his silence, and that seemed to do nothing but agitate Zell.

"Come on, man," Zell asked again. "How does it work? Can I have a look at it? Please?"

Squall's silence was as unyielding as a brick wall; he was more worried about the upcoming mission than he was about letting Zell fiddle with his weapon. Zell, meanwhile, was getting more annoyed by Squall's refusal to even acknowledge his presence.

"Hey, man, I'm talking to you!" he continued. "Why aren't you saying anything?" The quiet cadet frowned, and started to open his mouth.

"That's none of your business," Quistis stated, even as the words left Squall's mouth. He glanced up at her, and saw that she still had her head in her files, and annoyance crossed the cadet's face before he went back to staring at the floor. Zell, apparently satisfied that he'd gotten something out of the taciturn cadet, went quiet as well, though only for a moment.

In the intervening stillness, Squall thought back to the duel he and Seifer had waged that morning, under the auspices of training. The wound his rival had given him was healing up quickly, and would soon be replaced with scar tissue. Thinking of that scar brought him back to wakening at the infirmary, and he frowned, remembering the girl who had appeared that morning.

A couple of seconds after that exchange, the brawler's fingers started twitching again, and he finally stood up and fell into a defensive stance, before throwing punches at thin air toward the rear of the cabin. He loosed several rapid fire combos, steadily speeding up his rhythm, and started to launch a kick when Seifer grunted.

"Stop that," he muttered, and Zell paused as a smile cut across Seifer's face. "Its getting annoying, Chicken-Wuss."

"The _hell_ did you just say?" Zell replied, spinning toward Seifer, who started chuckling at the rise he had gotten out of the brawler. There was bad blood between the two, and Seifer knew how to exploit it. Zell started to move across the cabin when Quistis stood up.

"Knock it off, both of you!" she ordered, and Zell stopped dead in his tracks. Quistis' ire was more directed at Seifer, as she glared down at the larger cadet with a cold anger that earned respect even from him. Zell started to sit back down, and Seifer settled back, still smiling as Quistis dropped back into her seat, rubbing her temples.

Squall had ignored the all-too-typical confrontation between Zell and Seifer, and instead was wracking his mind with trying to remember who that woman was in the infirmary. She wasn't much older than himself, and had known his name. But, who was she? And why couldn't he place her, even though her voice and face seemed so familiar?

"Instructor," Squall asked, looking up at Quistis. Both Zell and Seifer forgot their animosity for a moment, instead surprised by the fact that Squall had spoken to someone without prompting. Quistis, though not as surprised as they, was still not expecting Squall to speak on his own.

"This morning, at the infirmary," he said. "There was a girl there. Do you know who she was?" Quistis frowned, and thought back to the infirmary, and though she remembered the brown-haired woman, she couldn't place her.

"I'm not sure," she responded. "There was someone there, but I didn't know her name. Why?"

Squall mentally shrugged and glanced back down at the floor, supposing it didn't really matter.

"Nothing, really," he replied, and Seifer's chuckle informed the cadet just how his rival had interpreted his response.

"Great," Seifer muttered as he shook his head. "I get tagged with Chicken-Wuss over there and Squall, who's just hitting puberty. Beautiful." Squall ignored Seifer's remarks, while Zell snarled and gave him a one-fingered response. Quistis sighed, and wondered if these three could even survive each other, much less in actual combat.

* * *

Squall had traveled to the harbor town on Balamb's southwest coast many times before, and was familiar with the small seaside port. However, the APC's firing ports were closed, so he couldn't get a glimpse outside of the creamy, blue-painted buildings or the verdant vegetation that lined the cobblestone streets. Instead, he waited in silence, stilling his breath as the transport turned and weaved down the roads. 

Balamb Harbor was a quiet tourist destination, fishing town, and resupply port for passing ships before Balamb Garden had been founded over a decade ago, and nowadays it was used extensively by SeeD as a transit hub; Garden agents routinely took passenger boats and their Salamander transports out of the harbor and used the local train depot to reach the western continents. The locals knew and respected SeeDs and cadets, and welcomed the boon to the local economy Garden had brought, and it was not uncommon to see convoys of transports rolling through the city streets, just like today.

Minutes later, the APC came to a halt, and the rear door slid open. Zell bounded out, and Squall rose and slowly followed, with Seifer brining up the rear with lethargic boredom. The ocean salt hit the cadets as they exited the vehicle, onto the concrete outside the oceanside hangar that Garden used to store its transports.

Squall turned his eyes toward the pier and the clear blue ocean beyond. All along the harbor were dozens of sleek, ocean-green ships, the NT-33 Salamanders SeeD used for quick, long range insertions. Looking more organic than crafted, they featured graceful curves and a single turret along the ship's bow that mounted a heavy .50 caliber machinegun.

"This is it, huh?" Seifer muttered behind Squall, and the smaller cadet glanced at the squad leader. Seifer met his eyes, and an odd understanding seemed to pierce his usual cockiness and arrogance. "You nervous too, Squall?"

"Move!" came a call from behind them, and Squall nodded at Quistis' urgent order, ignoring Seifer's strangely wary moment. Zell was already running down the pier toward one of the Salamanders, a SeeD support soldier guiding him to the correct ship. The remaining two cadets followed the brawler on board, and Quistis followed them in through the side hatch. It slid shut and hissed as the hydraulics sealed the watertight hull, and the cadets moved into the Salamander's main cabin.

Brown seats of the same uncomfortable cushioning as was in the APC lined the bulkheads of the cramped troop cabin; there was barely enough room for a full lance of three squads, but Bravo Squad's three cadets had plenty of room as they sat down.

A door slid open at the rear of the cabin, and from the Salamander's bridge came a slender woman with shoulder-length brown hair, slightly darkened skin, and narrow, slitted eyes. She was clad in a SeeD combat uniform, much like Quistis, and was fully armed as they all were.

"Xu," Quistis greeted the SeeD, and Xu nodded in reply as she stepped between the seated cadets and toward the front of the cabin. She was a SeeD Colonel, Rank Twenty-Four, and was much higher up than the cadets; in fact, she was close to a right hand man - or rather, woman - to the Headmaster as any SeeD came, and had as much experience as any officer in Garden.

"Good afternoon, Bravo Squad," she began, and then nodded toward their leader. "Seifer. How many times is this now? Three?"

"Oh, I love these exams," he replied with a sarcastic grin. "Being under you guys' eyes all the time is so much fun for a creative thinker like me." Xu snorted as he spoke.

"If by creative you mean 'failing,' then you're right," she responded, before looking back to the rest of the squad. "Let's get this briefing underway. Normally, you're not supposed to be briefed in transit, but we didn't have a whole lot of lead time on this; synching up the operation with the exam has caused us and our clients a few headaches."

Xu tapped a button on her laser pointer, and the Garden emblem behind her transformed into a map of the eastern coast of the western continent of Galbadia. A terrain map formed over the eastern coast, and political lines were drawn, displaying the edges of the subjugated nation of Timber, the official eastern borders of the Republic of Galbadia, and the entirety of the Dollet Dukedom, a small coastal state. The fact that the image centered on Dollet told Squall all he needed to know about where the mission was going to take place.

"As you've been informed, we're currently on a contract. This mission is named 'Operation Chromite,'" she explained, and tapped her pointer again. The map zoomed in to show the entire territory of Dollet in detail. Green and blue markers appeared along the western border of the nation, where it met the Republic of Galbadia.

"Seventy-two hours ago, the Dollet Dukedom came under attack by the Republic of Galbadia. Galbadian forces, totaling roughly four divisions, or about eighty thousand troops, crossed the border and into Dollet territory. They defeated initial resistance and broke through the two divisions that the Dukedom mobilized to counter the assault, and within twenty hours they reached the outskirts of the capital." As Xu spoke, four blue arrows moved across Dollet territory, pushing back and aside green markers and approaching the coastal capital, a large city nestled between two sheer coastal mountain ranges.

"Dollet forces held the capital for nearly another day, which was long enough for the national government to evacuate," Xu continued. "By then, Galbadian forces broke through the city's outer limits and engaged the Dollet military in close-quarters urban warfare. Most of the standing Dollet military has abandoned their positions in the main city and fallen back into the mountains, where they are reorganizing and calling up reinforcements for a counter attack. The remainder are taking advantage of the terrain to hinder Galbadian advancement and contest control of the city, though by now the Galbadian army has seized over seventy-percent of the main urban population center. A significant portion have retreated to the city blocks around Regan Beach, where the Dollet Navy is providing support fire."

"So, where does SeeD come in?" asked Zell as Xu paused, and she nodded toward the screen, where several arrows were shown moving in from the ocean.

"Right now, actually," she replied. "According to the Dukedom, the Galbadian army is trying to move in and mop up the Dollet troops in the mountains. Dollet's forces plan to launch a counter-attack, but if the Galbadians still hold the city, then they'll have to turn around and fight them in another urban battle. Remaining troops inside the city can't push the Galbadians out without support. That's where we come in."

The arrows marking the SeeD forces moved to the beaches along the city's shoreline, and started spreading through the city itself.

"SeeD forces are to land at Lapin Beach, which is south of where the main shore remnants are holding. Upon establishing a second beachhead, we will then advance through the city, clearing out Galbadian resistance at key points and assisting the standing Dollet forces in retaking the city, while drawing pressure off the forces at Regan Beach. SeeD members will move through the city with Dollet forces and take strategic positions along the approaches to the mountains. When the counter-attack comes, the Galbadians will not be able to fall back into the city."

"And what are _we_ supposed to be doing?" Seifer asked, sounding disappointed that he wasn't going to be on the spearhead.

"SeeD cadets will be tasked with flush-and-hold operations inside the city itself," Xu replied. "Specifically, Bravo Squad will be tasked with hitting and holding the Central Square, which is a central route through the city and a strategic objective. You'll be working directly with Alpha and Delta squads; Alpha will be your support and communications team while Delta will be your spotter and sniper team."

"Sounds pretty important," Zell muttered, and Seifer snorted.

"Sounds boring," Seifer replied. "So, the SeeDs get to go on the front lines and drive the Galbadians out of the city, while we do what? Dig in some holes and flush out some Galbadian holdouts? Back alley street fighting?" His frown was telling; Seifer didn't like the idea behind his job at all. Squall knew that he'd much rather be fighting against the Galbadian troops in the mountains or on the edge of the city, with the SeeDs and Dollet army. The cadet knew exactly that kind of mentality, the mind of one who wanted glory and victory over completing the mission. Seifer wanted to be a hero, and Squall didn't like that attitude; no one wants to share a foxhole with a hero, after all.

"The Dollet Dukedom was unwilling to spend enough funds to hire SeeD for a sustained campaign," Xu continued, ignoring Seifer's disappointment. "We've been deployed for a very limited time, in a window of only a few hours. Once the withdrawal order comes, you will need to report back to the beachhead immediately. Understood?" The three cadets nodded, each to their own particular idiom: a straight, simple nod from Squall, an enthusiastic one from Zell, and a bored inclination of the chin by Seifer.

"The Salamanders will take roughly another hour to reach the city," Xu continued. As she spoke, Quistis handed each of them a folder, containing copies of maps of the city and its surroundings. "You should familiarize yourself with current maps of the urban environment, particularly the region around your AO. I'm heading up to the bridge to watch over the rest of the operation." She stepped between them once again, though Squall did not pay her any more attention. Instead, he looked over the maps of the city, which, as the video diagram had shown, was wedged between two large mountain ranges. A series of transparencies showed their approach vector and arrows and shaded regions indicating where each group of SeeDs and cadets would be responsible for. Other important locations, such as mountain trails, bridges, the approximate locations of Dollet troops in the mountains and city, and even a disused radio tower on the cliffs were all highlighted and labeled with typical SeeD attention to detail.

"Man, this is serious," Zell remarked.

"Don't piss your pants," Seifer grunted as he glanced over the documents.

"Screw you, Seifer," Zell shot back. The squad leader jabbed a finger at Zell.

"No insubordination, Chicken-Wuss," he growled, and smiled darkly, before Quistis frowned and smacked a hand against the table between the seats.

"Quit arguing," she ordered, and Seifer grunted a response, while Zell reluctantly nodded. The squad leader glanced over at Squall after a few moments, and then tapped him on the shoulder.

"Squall, we need a man up in the gun turret," he ordered. "I just volunteered you for it." Squall frowned, not happy with being bullied around by Seifer, but deciding that it wasn't worth the trouble. Besides, he wanted to go someplace quiet and away from Seifer and Zell's petty bickering anyway.

Moments later, squall was outside, the fresh salty air flying in his face and playing with his brown hair. He ignored it, and instead closed his eyes, even as he kept one hand on the controls for the topside machinegun. The quiet rush of the wind felt good, and he savored the moment of comparative silence; it was all he was likely to get in the next few hours.

The next hours . . . Those would be spent fighting Galbadian soldiers. While well-armed, with superior technology and a large, trained army of competent soldiers, they were no match for SeeDs of Garden cadets in close quarters. In urban combat, the garden troops would easily dominate their foes, and numerous Galbadians would be killed.

But to kill . . . .

What did it mean to kill? To take another's life? Squall had never done it before, but he had taken extensive training in how to deal with the emotions associated with violence and combat. How he would need to stay calm even after the adrenaline high of the first encounter, how he would need to disassociate himself from the humanity of his enemy, and how he would need to think of the man to his left and to his right rather than himself.

Squall shook his head. That was idiotic thinking; worrying about others, and relying on others was foolish. People failed you; squall had learned that the hard way. There were only a few things he trusted, and among those were his junctions, his muscles, and his gunblade. Guardian Forces didn't leave, one's body didn't betray, and one's weapon would not stop cutting and killing for no reason. These things were where Squall's trust lay, and he would have to focus on those alone. He certainly couldn't rely on a glory monger like Seifer or an undisciplined hothead like Zell.

Squall Leonhart would only stand alone, because he had to. He had to be strong, to hold his own, and rely on no one else, dammit.

Squall opened his eyes, and glanced at his watch, and found that most of the last hour had flown by in his recursive thoughts. He turned his gaze forward, and saw a dark line begin to manifest on the horizon, and his heart started thumping faster and faster as the realization of battle struck him. There was a massive blossom of orange light on the horizon, and Squall instinctively reached down to his belt, grasping the Revolver's handle and feeling its solid, reassuring weight. Without wasting any time, he quickly pulled down his M4, checked it and his magazines, and ensured they were in working order, before inspecting him M1911 and knives. All of his gear in order, he looked back up, to see the war-torn horizon growing larger. Every second the mountains and structures became more and more distinct, and with them the roaring plumes of exploding artillery and gunfire. Dollet warships began to appear along the shoreline, massive sixteen-inch cannons blazing away.

From his pocket, the cadet drew a copy of the map to Dollet, and overlaid an image of their approach vector on it, and then looked back up at the growing city. He thought he could see soldier moving about on the beaches, battling for their lives, bleeding and dying and killing. They were caught in the maelstrom of savage violence, and he, along with his comrades, were going to be diving headlong into it.

Fierce resolve stamped itself on his face, and he grasped his gunblade tightly. The moment was at hand, the time to test his mettle as a SeeD mercenary and to prove to everyone that he was worthy of that honor.

Victory or defeat. Honor and disgrace. Life or death. Kill or be killed. Prove you are worthy of becoming a SeeD, Squall.

It was time for war.

* * *

-

* * *

You'll notice a number of variations between this chapter and the game. Forone thing, I made Seifer wear his cadet uniform instead of his trenchcoat; while it was fine in-game to have him be rebellious enough to not wear his uniform, I couldn't think of a good reason for him to not wear it in this story, particularly when uniforms are so important to regular military forces. Not to mention it helps to establish Quistis' authority and personality. :P 

You'll also note that not only are the cadets and SeeDs carrying sidearms, they also have M4 carbines. This is intentional; again, I have no good reason why they shouldn't be carrying weapons suited to fighting humans in an urban environment in an urban engagement with human enemies. And while I did say in an earlier chapter that Balamb Garden focused less on firearms than on magic, I will point out that there's a major difference between the Gardens' equipment and training; Balamb Garden's troops use light carbines and sidearms to complement their magic, GF enhancements, and melee skills, while Galbadia Garden's troops, who have no junctions and not a major emphasis on magic, use advanced firearms tactics and training, large amounts of firearms, and advanced technology like the hoverfoils, bolters, and Irvine's Valiant Multipurpose Rifle. Trabia doesn't use frearms much at all, instead relying on advanced control of magic and energy weaponry.

Also, a theme that you're going to notice, if you're a bit of a gun nut, is that Balamb Garden uses Colt-manufactured firearms (the M1911 and M4 are made by Colt) while Galbadia and Dollet will be using primarily Heckler and Koch-made weapons (G36, G36C carbine, Mark 23 pistol, MP5, etc.) If you're curious as to what any of these weapons look like, google or Wikipedia are your friends :D

The chapter title, Operation Chromite, comes from the name used for the UN landing at Nampo during the Korean War, which served a similar purpose to this operation in this story. A little bit of history for ya'll there :P

Until next chapter...


	5. Chapter IV: The Landing

_**Chapter IV: The Landing**_

"Squall, get down here!" came a shout from below as the Salamander began to speed up, and the small fleet of attack ships darted ahead like arrows cutting across the ocean surface. Squall clambered down the ladder, nearly losing his balance as he did so, and fell back into the squad bay.

"What about the gun turret?" he asked, to which Quistis responded by cutting around him and climbing up the ladder.

"I'll handle that," she explained while she strode up the ladder. A second later, the entire Salamander shuddered as the transport smashed into one of the seawalls surrounding the harbor and broke clear through, its reinforced hull cracking and shattering the stone. The Instructor's hands tightened around the ladder to avoid falling, and she started climbing the rest of the way up.

"Get ready to disembark!" shouted Xu from the cockpit. "Our LZ is hot, you're going to have hostiles and friendlies all over the beach!"

"You heard the lady!" Seifer snarled, unlimbering his M4 as he moved toward the front of the cabin. Squall and Zell drew their carbines as well and shouldered them, their index fingers beside the rifles' triggers and the muzzles pointing down toward the deck. They were going to be going in hard and fast, and when they hit, there wouldn't be much cover, so they would have to move as soon as they exited the transport. Recalling the maps, Squall knew that there would be about thirty meters of beach before they reached the seawall that led up into the paved city streets; until they could get to tighter quarters where they could use their melee skills to their greatest effect, the cadets were much more vulnerable.

The craft's inertia suddenly decreased, and Squall found himself being pushed forward slightly. The nose of the Salamander edged up on the beach, and the rattle of gunfire could be heard overhead as Quistis opened fire with the topside machinegun. Directly before Bravo Squad, the doors hissed and opened up like a spreading flower's petals, and the cadets burst out into the afternoon air. The roar of an explosion drowned out Seifer's shout to charge, and all three cadets leapt out onto the wet brown sand.

Lapin Beach would have been absolutely _beautiful_ if it wasn't gripped in the throes of an amphibious assault.

The discharge of rifles filled the air as two dozen Salamanders hit the beach, their machineguns sweeping away enemy targets along the seawall and beach. A blue and silver wave of troops surged out from the Salamanders, and the roar of their rifles could be heard as they fired on Galbadian machinegun nests directly in front of them. Smoke, sand, and bullets filled the air, and Squall's legs pumped as he ran toward the seawall thirty meters away. He spotted movement up on the seawall that separated the city from the beach, and a silver-helmeted head poked up: the helmet of a Galbadian soldier. Squall snapped up his rifle, and without thinking he double-tapped the trigger. Squall's reflexive action sent three 5.56mm rounds forth, and crimson burst from the Galbadian's faceplate. He dropped out of sight behind the top of the seawall, and the three cadets rushed toward the concrete barrier.

Sand erupted nearby as a line of machinegun bullets tore past, and Seifer spun toward the offending shooter. He pointed at a sandbagged position.

"Machinegun nest!" he snarled. "Flame 'em!" Instantly, Squall and Zell came to a stop, raised their left hands toward the new target, and concentrated. A second later, golden-red light surged around their hands, and all three cadets loosed blasts of flame magic. The spells smashed into the sandbags and blasted through them, the resulting inferno roasting the two Galbadian soldiers manning the gun emplacement.

That threat dealt with, the cadets rushed forward, and reached the seawall seconds later. The chaos began to subside as the SeeDs and cadets destroyed the Galbadian troops that had been protecting Lapin Beach. Seifer stepped way from the seawall as gunfire could be heard overhead, and fired a burst from his rifle. A death cry could be heard up above, and he started toward a nearby metal staircase. Squall and Zell raced after him as he scaled it, reaching the top of the seawall and the cobblestone street beyond. Squall was right behind him, and Zell brought up the rear. Bravo Squad found themselves standing at an intersection, with burning cars directly to their right, and an archway leading down another cobblestone street just ahead. Three dead Galbadian troops, clad in their blue BDUs and with steel-gray body armor over their arms, shoulders, and torsos, lay in the street.

Seifer moved up to the archway and poked hi head around the corner as Squall and Zell swept the street to make sure no new enemies appeared. The squad leader pulled his head back immediately, and used his left hand to pull his rifle's strap over his head, before slinging it. The other two cadets instantly did the same, and Seifer and Squall drew their blades as Seifer held up a hand and raised four fingers.

An instant later, four Galbadian soldiers rushed through the archway, G36C carbines in hand and swords at their hips. Their eyes were hidden behind their helmets' visors, glittered with the red of their image enhancing gear, though their mouths and noses were still visible. They had apparently come running as they heard the chaos of the invasion; however, they were not expecting the invaders to have advanced this far in less than a minute.

Seifer rolled out from behind the archway, Hyperion flying up high and beheading one soldier in a single brutally fast strike. As the head flew backwards, Squall leapt toward one of the enemy soldiers, the Revolver chopping down though the surprised man's left shoulder and neck and down into his chest. Crimson burst from the cleaved wound as the man fell backward, even as the Revolver cut out through his right flank, tearing through his body armor like tissue paper.

Zell was upon the third enemy soldier in the same heartbeat, left hand batting aside the Galbadian's rifle as if it was a toy, while his right snapped across in a vicious hook that shattered the soldier's jaw and broke his neck. The man was sent spinning away across the street and landed in a heap. Seifer, meanwhile, darted across the group of soldiers, and Hyperion cut down, hamstringing the last man. He fell forward to one knee, and the gunblade arced back and stabbed down into the Galbadian's chest, punching out his back. Seifer's finger touched his weapon's trigger, and a grapefruit-sized hole was blasted through the soldier's torso, allowing Seifer to extract his weapon with ease.

From start to finish: two seconds.

Squall looked over the corpses, and then down at his hands, and to his blood-stained gunblade. He had just killed two men without even thinking about it, as if they were just fiends that had stood in his way. He didn't feel _anything_, anger, shock, hate, nothing. Maybe it was just the adrenaline in his blood, but Squall didn't believe that he could have killed those men so casually.

"The first one you kill in close isn't easy," Seifer grunted, and Squall glanced to his rival, who nodded, his face impassive. "Don't worry. It gets easier."

"It does?" Zell grunted, shaking his knuckles and fingers where he had hit his opponent, and then glanced at Squall.

"Let's get to work," Squall muttered as Seifer started down the city street beyond, which gave them a direct line toward the Central Square. The other two cadets followed as Alpha Squad moved into the secured area behind them. Their boots hit the cobblestone pavement as they unslung their rifles once again for quick ranged combat, leaving the corpses of their enemies, and any guilt that may have been associated with them, behind.

The next few minutes were marked with nothing spectacular; the trio of cadets encountered no enemy soldiers as they moved up the road, moving from alley to car to doorway, rifles covering each other and magic ready to fire off if they encountered enemy armor. Aside from the distant roars of explosions and gunfire, there were no signs of the urban battle raging throughout this city. There were no civilians either; they were all hiding in their homes, hoping that the war wouldn't suddenly intrude on them as they took cover.

"No one's here," grunted Zell as they took cover in an alley. Seifer shook his head.

"All the Gallies are out fighting the Dollet army in the mountains," he replied. "Too bad, I was wanting some real action."

"Fine by me," Zell replied, and Seifer sneered at him as Squall took cover behind a car, his M4 pointed down the street as he signaled "all clear." Seifer jumped out from hiding and started running down the street, Zell right behind him. They moved under an overhead stone and concrete walkway that connected a nearby pub with the upper floors of an apartment building across the road. Squall rose from cover and started toward them, when he spotted movement up above on the walkway, sand then snapped up his weapon. The other two cadets spotted the movement an instant before a half-dozen blue-armored Galbadian soldiers leapt up over the side of the walkway and dropped down around them. An equal number emerged from behind the walkway's solid stone walls, leveling their rifles at Squall, who was the only cadet they had line of sight on.

"Drop your weapons now, SeeDs!" ordered one of the Galbadians. His shoulder armor proudly displayed the rank insignia of a sergeant.

"They think we're SeeDs?" Zell muttered as the Galbadians advanced around him and Seifer, swords at the ready.

"Perceptive of them," Seifer replied with a grin. "They can see what those assholes at Garden can't."

"I said drop your-" the sergeant began, and then Seifer stabbed Hyperion into his face.

"I heard you the first time," the squad leader growled as Zell leapt toward one of the soldiers in a flash of tattooed fury, left leg smashing into the man's torso armor and crumpling it. The soldier was hurled backwards twenty feet down the road, to bounce off the pavement and roll along.

Squall had hesitated to fire, noting that the soldiers surrounding Seifer and Zell had not instantly attacked, but even as Seifer's arm was twitching to send Hyperion up into the officer's face, Squall had pulled the trigger on his carbine. One Galbadian flew backward, his face punctured by three rounds, and Squall dove aside. Even as he moved, his left hand detached from his M4 and released a bolt of flame magic that smashed into another soldier's chest, reducing most of his torso to ash and molten armor. The rest of the Galbadians, shocked by the flash of light, took an instant to target Squall, even as he ducked into the alley beside the pub.

_Fire against infantry to burn, suppress, and frighten. Lightning against machines and armor to destroy electronics and fuse components. Ice against hardened targets for penetration._

The mantra repeated reflexively in Squall's mind as he kicked in the side door to the pub and ducked inside. He glanced around the interior of the bar, and out the front windows, where Seifer and Zell were battling the Galbadia soldiers, though outnumbered two to one. Shitty odds for the Galbadians, really. At the back of the room was a curving staircase, just behind and beside the bar. Squall dashed up it, entering an upstairs gambling hall, and to his right was the walkway, and the four Galbadian troops remaining on the walkway. The cadet drew his gunblade.

The two Galbadians fighting Seifer instantly realized their error in fighting SeeDs, or even SeeD cadets, in close quarters. The grinning squad leader's slender gunblade rang against their swords almost faster than they could follow, and the power behind the blows in his single arm was greater than both their arms combined. Their swords were battered aside as they desperately defended against Seifer's attack.

He suddenly came forward with a thrust, the stab caught by one man's sword, and then the cadet shoved his opponent's blade aside with brute strength while his left hand rose. A fire spell surged through his fingers and stabbed out of his palm, into the second man's face, the power of the magic lifting his body up and hurling it against one of the building walls. Without missing a beat, Seifer pulled his gunblade away, spinning low to the ground as he did so. Before the Galbadian could react, much less block, Seifer rose, Hyperion stabbing up into the soldier's gut. A half-second later, a pulse of sonic power shot down the gunblade, ending the fight.

The armored knuckles on Zell's gloves snapped up, parrying a cleave form one Galbadian, and the brawler ducked low, both legs lashing out and hitting the shins of the attacking enemy soldier. The Galbadian fell to his stomach as Zell sprung up in a single smooth motion, flying into a spinning kick to the head that smashed the second soldier across is helmet and dented it inward, launching him away. The brawler spun on the remaining soldier, who was starting to stand, and stepped forward into a soccer kick to the gut. The man was hurled across the street and through the pub's front window, shattering the glass as he did so.

The soldiers on the walkway were looking for a way to assist their comrades below or find the missing SeeD cadet, when he came straight to them. Squall stepped out of the pub's second floor quietly, raised one hand, and pumped a fire spell directly into the soldier on the far end of the walkway. He took the blast to the face, his head instantly reduced to char and ash, and before the enemy could react, the cadet was one them. The Revolver cleaved down in a one-handed cut, slashing between the nearest soldier's shoulderpad and neck and bursting out his back. The two remaining men whirled on Squall, one drawing his sword, and the Revolver chopped across, knocking the man's blade aside as Squall charged in with his shoulder leading.

He collided with the Galbadian, and the soldier was hurled backward into his comrade from the power of the impact. Wasting no time, Squall stabbed forward with his weapon, the gunblade gutting the soldier. The Revolver fired, and even as the man was blasted off the end of the weapon, Squall stepped forward and spun around, his weapon coming across into a massive cleave into the last soldier. It chopped down into the man's neck, and his head was torn clean off and hurled out over the street.

Below, Seifer watched the head drop down past him and hit the street, and then glance dup at Squall as the cadet dropped off the side of the walkway and rejoined them, blood marking his shirt and jacket.

"Like I said," the squad captain remarked, and then nodded own the street. "Come on, there's plenty more of these Galbadian fucks for us to kill!" He started running down the street, and cupped his left hand around his mouth. "Come on you Galbadian bastards! I'm right here! _Come out and fight me!"_

"He's kidding," Zell muttered, and he and Squall ran after their squad leader. "Does he want to get wiped out by a sniper?"

No enemy soldiers emerged to challenge the cadets as they rushed down the street, and as they passed shops and homes, Squall checked his mental maps, and realized that they should be close to their primary objective, the Central Square.

As luck would have it, they _were_. Mere moments after Squall had made that observation, Seifer had run right out into the middle of the Central Square. A single Galbadian soldier, equipped with a short-range radio pack, was standing in the middle of the area, talking with someone over the radio, when Seifer ran in and stabbed him through the gut with his gunblade. The squad leader stepped forward even as he struck, and his right shoulder shamed into the Galbadian's face, throwing him to the ground with Hyperion still in his stomach. Seifer casually stepped forward toward the fallen soldier, grabbed the gunblade, and pulled the trigger, blasting him away from this life.

"You two," he ordered as Squall and Zell came in behind him. "Secure the perimeter." They nodded and started across the Square, drawing their carbines and moving out. Four roads led into the middle of the Central Square, and they had just come from one, leaving only three remaining. One cadet moved to each of them, and noted only a few corpses and some debris, before returning to the middle of the Square.

"All clear," Seifer surmised, nodding. He looked across the circular area, one of the main hubs for transport in the city, surrounded by shops and hotels. At the middle of the Square was a statue of a queen from ancient Dollet royalty, in the center of a large fountain. Somehow, the water supplying the fountain had not been cut in all the chaos.

Seifer peered across the are, and pointed toward a large building marked as the "First Mark Dollet Hotel."

"We're exposed out here," he said. "Move inside and secure that building." The trio of cadets did as ordered, stepping inside the main double doors of the hotel. The empty, but richly appointed, lobby greeted them, and the cadets cut across the entrance, sweeping the area. Squall and Zell moved up stairs, taking a position on an outdoor balcony that gave them a good line of sight across the plaza, and Seifer joined them momentarily.

"I barricaded the front entrance," he explained.

"Then we're on standby until we get additional orders," remarked Squall, and Seifer frowned.

"Standby," he muttered, spitting out the word as if it was poison. "I hate waiting around." He began pacing around the balcony, like a caged predator. Both Squall and Zell relaxed, but remained on their guard, watching the intact streets for any coming Galbadians. Everyone had their rifles in hand as they stood or sat, covering the street.

They waited a good twenty minutes, with nothing to interest them, save for the occasional staccato of gunfire in the distance. Then, without warning, a deep explosion sounded in the direction of the mountains, the blast catching the attention of Bravo Squad. The explosion was followed by higher-pitched gunfire, and more detonations. The cadets could recognize the distant roars of high-end magic spells and the summons of Guardian Forces amidst the blasts of tanks and artillery and shoulder-mounted missiles.

The counterattack had begun. Dollet and SeeD forces were now engaging the Galbadians returning to the city, which meant the enemy should be passing through here eventually.

"Sounds like its starting," Squall remarked. Seifer grinned in anticipation.

"Bring it on," he responded, gripping his gunblade. He stopped pacing, and leaned up against the railing of the balcony, clenching his fists as he listened intently and watched for any approaching enemies. No one emerged, and as the minutes passed, Seifer's patience began to wear thin.

"Come on, you cowardly sons of bitches!" he shouted. "We're right here! Show me what you've got!"

"Shut the fuck up," Zell muttered under his breath. "You don't want the whole army coming down on us."

Apparently, the Galbadians didn't hear Seifer's shouts, as none of enemy came running. He stood there for a good fifteen to twenty minutes, waiting for any sign of the enemy, but in the end, Seifer turned around, disappointed. He leaned against one of the walls at the back of the balcony, gunblade bouncing impatiently on his shoulder. Zell began to pace in bored tension after a few minutes, while Squall waited silently, alert for any enemy threats. Another half-hour passed, marked by distant ringing of an old clock tower somewhere in the city, and even Squall became tired of waiting.

"Nothing out there," he remarked quietly. Zell glanced his way, clenched his teeth, and pounded a fist into the asphalt.

" . . . The _hell!" _he yelled, frustrated. "Now this is what I call boring!" Zell looked up and around, then back in the direction of the battle. "This ain't right man," he said, shaking his head. "You'd think we would have heard or seen _something_ by now." Zell resumed his pacing around the balcony.

"Hmph," Seifer said, watching Zell. He glanced up in the direction of the battle, on the far side of the city. "Damn Galbadians. Still keeping us waiting . . ."

Squall was about to reply when he heard a noise over the roar of the distant battle: combat boots, and lots of them, pounding the pavement.. Far more boots than those of any of the SeeD forces in the area. Zell crouched beside Squall while Seifer moved back, out of sight of the plaza below but still able to see what was happening.

About one minute later, a platoon of Galbadian soldiers moved into the Central Square, sweeping it with their rifles. They spread out, two of them going to the corpse of the dead man Seifer had slain, and then shaking their heads as they policed his gear. Moments later, another platoon moved into the Square, bringing the total of enemy troops well past eighty men. Squall mentally touched his Guardian Forces, knowing that they would need to use their avatars to reduce the enemy to a more manageable size if Seifer chose to engage.

However, Seifer remained silent as the enemy paused, their officers conferring. Their voices were barely audible.

"SeeD and Dollet troops are everywhere now," muttered one of them. "Won't be able to hold the city without reinforcements from the mountains."

"We don't need them," replied another officer. "Once we take care of that business up in the mountains with Major Biggs, we should be able to withdraw. Let's move out before any of those damned kids find us."

"Scared of a few brats from Garden?" remarked another officer, to which the second officer grunted.

"No, but you and I both know the damage these kids can do. I'm not losing a whole platoon because we stumbled into a SeeD ambush. Now move out! Biggs needs us up there to assist with the repairs!"

The Galbadians started up one of the roads, leading to the south side of the city and the mountains beyond. Within moments, the Galbadian force had abandoned the Central Square, and the cadets rose from their hiding places.

"Where the hell they going?" Zell asked as soon as the enemy was out of sight. "Nothing up there." Squall ran the maps of Dollet through his mind, recalling if there had been anything of value up in those mountains. Nothing was there, except . . .

Squall looked up, scanning the cliffs towering over the city, and spotted the object he had remembered seeing on the maps.

"There," he said, spotting the tall, unused tower he had noted before. "That's the only place they could be going."

"What's that?" Zell asked. "Looks like an old radio tower?" Seifer stepped past them, and Squall noted that his grin had returned.

"Our next destination," Seifer explained, pointing his gunblade up at the tower. Predictably, Zell balked.

"That's against orders! We can't leave the Square! We have a job to do here!"

"Weren't you just saying how bored you were?" Seifer asked the martial artist. Zell shook his head and turned back to the other member of Bravo Squad.

"Squall!" Zell pleaded, seeking support of the more level-headed member of the group. To his surprise, the Squall simply shrugged. To be honest, he was a little bit bored, but he was attached to thi squad, and that meant obeying his superior. To do anything else would look bad on the after-action report, and Squall didn't want to miss his chance to become a SeeD through insubordination.

"Orders are orders. Seifer's the squad leader, so I stand by the leader's decision," he responded. Seifer spun around, smiling at Squall's vote.

"Leader's decision?" he asked, walking towards Squall. He suddenly reached up and roughly slapped Squall on the shoulder, as if he were a longtime comrade. "Don't kid around, man. You want to wreak some havoc too, don't you?" In response, Squall quickly brushed the hand away, and turned, looking Seifer dead in the eye.

"It's a good opportunity to test out my training," Squall replied honestly. "Thanks to you, I feel like I can take on anyone." Squall's eyes hardened, and he glanced at the cut running between his rival's eyes, a cut mirrored on his own face. "Even if they do fight dirty, like you."

Seifer shrugged and looked away.

"You'll thank me when the time comes," he responded quietly. Zell had been watching the exchange, surprised at how the two rivals were interacting. He'd never seen this kind of behavior between them before; it was like they were war buddies or something. It was rare to see Squall and Seifer even address each other with respect, considering their reputation for butting heads.

"The hell?" he asked, stepping up towards them. "I thought you guys didn't get along? You're like, all buddy-buddy now." Seifer turned his head and glared at Zell, but said nothing in response.

"Look," Zell continued, "We can't just go off on our own without authorization. We have to hold the Square. This ain't no ordinary battle. It's an exam, an important one. I'm tellin' ya, we have to stick to orders!"

"Then stay here," Seifer snorted, shaking his head. "We don't need any boy scouts." Zell, predictably, took offense at Seifer's insult.

"What was that!?" he demanded angrily. Squall quickly stepped over to Zell and put a hand on his shoulder, to calm the volatile cadet down before he did something both he and Seifer would regret.

"Don't take him seriously, Zell," Squall muttered, then he used the advice the martial artist had given him earlier that day. "Just ignore him." Zell glanced back at Squall, and after a moment calmed down.

"Tch . . . _fine_," he growled. Squall turned back to the squad leader.

"Seifer, if we're going go, let's hurry before we lose them," he said. The squad leader nodded, and turned to face the street that led to the mountains.

"The enemy is headed for that facility," he ordered. "We, Squad B, are to secure the summit and determine their intentions. Move out!" That done, Seifer moved out off the balcony, dropping over the railing and into the street, before heading down the road that led toward the mountains and the enemy. Squall was right behind him and Zell, reluctantly, followed.

* * *

-

* * *

As with the previous Gunblade, I removed the dog from that sequence. You may also note that I had the cadets take cover inside the hotel, which seemed to make more sense than being sniper bait by standing out in the middle of the Square. Also, I know that the radioman that Seifer killed shouldn't have been there due to the signal interference. I'm going to explain this in the next chapter. 

Astute readers may note the similarities between the dialogue at the end of the chapter and the dialogue in Gunblade; this is mainly because I got lazy at the end and copied the text, which worked fine as it was, and then edited it to make it better. I'm going to be doing this more and more in upcoming chapters, rather than do complete rewrites.

_Addendum:_ Some reviewers have expressed concern about the use of rifles and firearms in this chapter, and I understand that concern. I've put up a new rant on my profile page that addresses this. Relax, though: I'm not biting too hard in this one :P

Until next chapter . . . .


	6. Chapter V: Ascent

_**Chapter V: Ascent**_

"One platoon's worth," Squall muttered as he peered down the street directly ahead. Zell and Seifer, behind the corner that he stood at, waited on his report. "Galbadian regulars. One red armor at the far end. One squad at either end of the bridge, and one more at the center."

They had tracked the Galbadian force through the city for the last ten minutes, and their path had led them to the southern edge of the capital, to a river that opened into the ocean via a large ravine. Spanning that ravine was a hundred meter-long bridge that connected to a cobblestone path winding its way up into the mountains. The enemy was all over the bridge, though whether these troops were part of the contingent that had passed through the Square or just a group that had already been stationed here was unclear. Regardless, if they were to continue investigating the Galbadians' operations in this area, they would need to clear out these soldiers.

However, that itself was a problem: the enemy outnumbered them over ten to one. In close quarters, they might stand a good chance against those odds, but by the time they killed one group the others would shoot them from across the bridge, and even with defensive junctions Squall didn't want to risk it.

"Squall, what GFs are you packing?" Seifer asked, and the cadet frowned.

"Ifrit, Shiva, Quetzacotl," he replied. Seifer nodded, and poked his head out from around the corner.

"A GF is one hell of a distraction," he said with a devilish grin. Though Seifer wasn't the smartest cadet, he had an uncanny knack for combat strategy and a cruel streak a mile wide. "Drop some heavenly smiting on those Gallies at the far end of the bridge, and while the others are still shitting themselves, we rush in and kill the close group, then take down the squad walking the bridge."

"And what about if the assholes on this side of the bridge take too long to take down?" Zell asked, to which Seifer's grin widened.

"We hose the bridge with GFs," he replied, his voice one part serious and part anticipation.

"That'll destroy the whole bridge!" Zell balked, to which Seifer shrugged.

"Hey, its only what? A hundred meters? Don't tell me you can't jump that with your junctions, Chicken-Wuss." He chuckled. "Besides, if we can't cross, we just go back to the Square and look for more enemies to kill to pass the time. That fine by you, boy scout?" Zell clenched his teeth, but held back from saying anything unpleasant.

"Okay, fine," he muttered. "We'll play it your way, Seifer."

"Good," the squad leader replied with a sneer. "Because that's the _only_ way we're playing it." He nodded to Squall. "Drop Ifrit on the far side of the bridge. That'll get their attention." Squall closed his eyes and began to focus, reaching inside himself and touching the entities that resided within his mind; the Guardians that fueled their strength.

Part of the pact between mortals and the Guardian Forces that they defeated was that the GFs would use their powers to manipulate energy to strengthen their human comrades. However, there were other advantages to the pact, among them that the Guardian would honor the calls of their human allies to come to their aid. All it took was the proper mental focus and an accurate picture of who, what, and where the GF would place its wrath or benevolence upon . . . .

Squall opened his eyes and nodded to his comrades, and above the bridge, the air burst into flames. A swirling maelstrom of fire spread outward, a fiery portal that opened a gateway for the blazing avatar of Ifrit to emerge into the mortal world. Galbadian troops turned their eyes up toward the raging flames and the creature that emerged, shielding their visors as they switched vision modes to better take in the image. Soldiers' mouths widened at the spectacle, but every man raised a rifle or a hand and prepared to cast magic even before the monster had touched down onto the bridge. Their discipline was impressive; none of them broke ranks or retreated.

"Guardian Force!" came a shout from the red-armored officer leading the group. "SeeDs! Take it out now!" At the order, the Galbadians opened fire, and those closest to the GF began channeling ice magic. Shards of absolute cold formed in their hands and lanced toward Ifrit even as bullets pockmarked the avatar's skin. Snarling in anger or annoyance - which one was uncertain - the Guardian ignored the attacks and raised both hands. Flashes of white-hot flame surrounded its fingers, and the GF swept both arms toward the end of the bridge, sending forth a wall of blazing fire. The soldiers at the far side of the bridge barely had time to scream or start diving for cover before the fires engulfed them and reduced them to ash in a single blaze of violence.

Ifrit's snarls and growls rattled bones as the avatar shook off the blasts of ice burying into its skin and the bullets digging into its hide. The GF's body began to catch alight as its brief moment of presence on the mortal plane came to an end. The blaze began to consume the whole of its physical shape, and it vanished in a swirling cloud of cinders and ashes that themselves disappeared into the empty air, leaving the shocked Galbadians alone on the bridge.

One soldier felt something slid into his back, and he looked down to see a narrow blade thrust out the front of his armor, and instant before a concussive explosion ended his life.

Correction: the Galbadians were not _that_ alone.

There were eight men in the squad at the near end of the bridge, and in the span of a single brutal second there were only four remaining, as Seifer gutted one, Zell barreled into a second with a shoulder block that threw him off the side of the bridge, and the last two were cut down with two swift, powerful cleaves from Squall. The remaining four men were turning on the threat, only for one of them to have Seifer come in with an arcing slice that split his throat, sending the man to the pavement with his blood pooling on the stone. A mighty left hook from Zell smashed into another soldier's torso, and the shock of the impact blew through the man's armor and cracked ribs and ruptured internal organs. The soldier was hurled backward, dying in mid-air behind the impossible strength of a SeeD cadet. The Revolver chopped down into another soldier's sword, and Squall pulled the weapon's trigger, blasting the blade down and deforming the Galbadian's sword. The gunblade slashed back up, taking the soldier's head from the jaw onwards. The last man in the squad was run through by Hyperion, and Seifer was already running past, tearing his weapon free without even looking at the mortally wounded soldier.

The three cadets dashed over the falling corpses of the enemy soldiers and rushed headlong at the squad covering the center of the bridge. They had turned toward the commotion at their backs, only to see a trio of surprisingly young but deadly soldiers barreling toward them at seemingly impossible speeds. Even as the Galbadians raised their rifles, all three cadets snapped their hands up and sent blasts of flame and lightning magic into the Galbadians' ranks. Two soldiers were incinerated, their torsos blazing with arcane fire, and a third was lifted up off his feet by the lightning bolt that hit him in the torso and head. The enemy soldiers were momentarily put off by the ferocity of the magical attack, which was half the point behind the barrage, and that momentary hesitation gave the cadets all the time they needed to close in.

Metal armor deformed under a rising knee from Zell as blood splashed on the pavement from a slash by Seifer. Squall's gunblade cleaved, and a man fell to the bridge with a gaping crease in his chest from left shoulder to right hip. A neck broke under Zell's rising left kick, a Galbadian's head was shorn off as Seifer whirled around, and a heavy chop nearly bisected the last man as Squall tore into him.

Metal rang against stone as the last enemy soldier fell to the ground, and Seifer pumped his fist forward, jabbing his gunblade at the mountain trail ahead as the adrenaline rush surged through his body.

"Yeah!" he shouted. "That's what I'm talking about! Let's find some more bastards to kill!" Without waiting for his squadmates to respond, Seifer charged forward, Zell and Squall scrambling over the corpses to keep up with the charge. The squad leader rushed over the other side of the bridge, past the scorched stones and charred remains of the enemy hat had manned that position, and up the mountain trail. The trio of cadets continued advancing, and Squall pushed forward, trying to catch up with Seifer to warn him to slow down. They were not being stealthy at all, and that meant-

Something exploded nearby, and shrapnel dug into Squall's chest. His junctions saved him, hardening his skin against the shards of metal, and he fell back behind a rocky outcropping as gunfire erupted from overhead.

"Ambush!" Zell shouted as Seifer's gunblade snapped up an intercepted a sword belonging to one of a pair of Galbadian troops that dropped down from the rocks overhead. More gunfire slashed toward them, bullets smashing into the rocks all around the two cadets at the rear, and Squall raised a hand toward an outcropping where the fire was coming from. Pain lanced through his shoulder as a bullet lodged into it, but he gritted his teeth and loosed a blast of fire at the enemy. The spell stabbed into the rocks and exploded, hurling half-molten shards of stone into the air, and Zell let out battle cry as he scrambled forward, leaping up the side of the cliff face.

Up ahead, Seifer drove one Galbadian soldier back, and then spun on the second one. His gunblade arced across and drove the soldier's blade down, and his left hand shot across and clamped onto that wrist, holding it in place. Hyperion arced up and over his left arm, and Seifer stabbed the gunblade through the soldier's chest. The second soldier was rushing at Seifer when Squall leapt upon him, the Revolver blasting aside the man's sword and chopping across into his neck, cleaving off his head.

Zell's junction-enhanced legs propelled him up the side of the cliff, launching him twenty feet into the air and directly over the Galbadian position. A blast of flame shot down from his hands as he descended, and immolated one soldier. He hit the ground next to a second man, who snapped his rifle's butt across into Zell's face. The brawler's head was rocked backward, and he replied with a snap kick an instant later. Zell's boot smashed into the soldier's chest, crumpling metal armor and hurling the man against the cliff face hard enough to break bones. The third and final soldier in the ambush spot was drawing his sword when Zell clamped one hand over the man's sword arm and the other over his neck. The brawler whirled and launched his victim over the side of the cliff to smash into the trail below. A moment later, Zell followed, though in a much more controlled and far less painful fashion.

"Damn Galbadian cowards," Seifer growled as he wiped off his blade on one corpse's uniform. "Ambushing us like that."

"Well if you weren't charging headfirst up the mountain like a complete idiot," Zell growled, but what he was saying fell upon deaf ears as Seifer started up the side of the mountain once again, Squall following wordlessly. Grumbling angrily under his breath, Zell followed after them.

The next few minutes were spent scrambling up along the mountain trail, the cadets' legs pumping as Seifer drove on and his teammates pursued. The trail wound up the side of the cliffs overlooking the city, and within a few minutes the path began to level off As it did so, Seifer began to slow down, and within a few moments they could see the huge, old tower rising up above. Seifer slowly dropped low to the ground and began to stalk forward, and Squall and Zell did the same. The trio advanced like a pack of hunting animals, their muscles tensed in anticipation. The tower continued to rise as they neared it, its old steel structure partially rusted and worn out in the sea breeze. However, it looked as if there were Galbadian troops on the upper levels, on a large platform at the top of the tower, and they could hear machinery working inside.

"What the hell are they doing?" Zell muttered quietly as the trio approached a small cliff face overlooking the base of the tower. They stayed low to the ground as they neared the edge, and spied a squad of Galbadian troops below, conferring with a red-armored officer.

"Generator is up and running," remarked one of the soldiers, and the officer nodded.

"Power boosters?" he asked, and a second soldier nodded affirmatively.

"Boosters are optimized," he replied. "We don't have to rely on the city-wide power network anymore."

"Good," the officer said, crossing his arms. "Any word on enemy movement along the approach?"

"Nothing on burst transmission, sir," replied another soldier, wearing a radio pack. "If they encountered anyone, they would have let us know." The officer shrugged, and then pointed toward the main entrance.

"Tomlinson, get inside and begin powering up the comms systems. The Major will have the radio tower up and running in the next few minutes, so we need to be ready to pump as much juice as we can into this thing, otherwise we'll never cut through the interference."

"Aye sir," replied the soldier he was addressing, and the troops started moving back inside the building, with the officer following after him.

"Its Dollet's old radio tower," Zell remarked, nodding. "This thing's been offline since the signal interference started nearly twenty years ago. They never had enough power to cut through, so they shut the place down."

"Repairing the radio tower," Squall said, shaking his head. "Why? No one uses standard radios anymore, and burst transmission isn't reliable with the signal interference . . . ."

"Who cares," Seifer replied, standing up and dusting himself off. "Galbadians are inside, let's go fuck 'em up." Squall didn't reply, and Seifer glanced at him, and the blood on his jacket, sleeves, and gunblade, and the rifle slung over his back.

"So, how's it been so far?" he asked, shifting the subject. "Your first battle. Still nervous, Squall?" The cadet hesitated, before slowly shaking his head.

"Not sure," he answered. "I'm surprised at how easy it is, killing people, but I try not to think about it and focus on the objective. If I have to kill someone, then I kill them."

"No fear, no regrets," Seifer remarked, nodding. "Kill or be killed. Good." Squall glanced up at Seifer.

"What about you?" he asked, and behind Seifer, Zell blinked. That was twice in one day Squall had actually asked a question to someone without being prompted.

"Me?" Seifer replied, and chuckled. "I fear nothing. I live for this shit. Every battle, every kill, makes me harder and stronger, and takes me one step closer to my dream."

"Dream?" Squall echoed, not understanding. What the hell was Seifer talking about?

"Everyone has a dream," he replied. "Don't you? Don't you have something you want, a goal you want to meet, something to drive for, something you'll kill or destroy anything to achieve?" Squall caught a gleam in Seifer's eye as he spoke, and that faint bit of madness was visible in his eyes, the same bit of insanity he had seen right when his rival had cut his face open.

Though he was right in this regard. Squall did have something he was striving for, an insatiable need to be strong, to become a SeeD and stand on his own, because . . . .

Why? He knew there was _some_ reason why this need burned in him, but he couldn't remember why it was so important. He paused, and realized at that moment that something wasn't right, but _what_ he couldn't place his finger on.

Seifer was watching him, and waiting for a response. Squall chose not to give him one at all.

"I don't want to talk about it," he replied, to which Seifer shrugged. Unlike Quistis, he had long ago accepted that he wouldn't get deep into Squall's thoughts unless Squall himself chose to start talking.

Zell, who had been watching the doors the whole time for any signs of activity, turned to the two cadets, interested in their conversation.

"Yo!" he said, stepping towards them. "What are you guys talking about?"

"Mind your own business," Seifer remarked dismissively. Zell's eyes widened, and a growl escaped his throat. He suppressed the urge to pound his squad leader's face in, instead turning and snapping off a series of jabs at an imaginary opponent.

"What's the matter Zell?" Seifer asked, smiling. Zell glanced back over his shoulder. "Swatting flies?" Once again, Seifer's remark had gotten under Zell's skin, judging by the look of fury that spread across the brawler's face. Apparently satisfied, Seifer turned and walked down the path to their right, which led down to the entrance to the Communications Tower.

"Damn you," Zell growled as his nemesis strode away, and the martial artist punched the bricks beneath his feet. Cracks spread outward from the impact like spider webs.

"There you are!" came a shout from behind them, and the cadets spun, Squall wincing at the volume of the shout. If the Galbadians were within earshot then their position would have been given away instantly. Both cadets looked up, and saw a diminutive female cadet standing on a rock mound just behind them. She paused, panting in exhaustion, and then suddenly toppled forward over the rock mound with a yelp of surprise, her arms pinwheeling wildly, before rolling to a stop right in front of Squall and Zell.

"Ow," she muttered as she stood. Squall recognized the green eyes, small frame, brown curls, and annoyingly cute appearance of the girl he'd helped to find the directory earlier that day. She still looked as out of place on the battlefield as she had in Garden, though the oversized nunchaku strapped to her back and the M1911 belted to her waist showed she was armed for combat. The fact that she wasn't carrying an M4 like Squall's squad told him immediately that she was part of one of the support units and not a frontline soldier.

"You okay?" Squall asked as she stood, and the girl nodded, even as Zell helped her up.

"I'm fine!" she said with another of the high-pitched giggles Squall remembered. "Are you guys Bravo Squad?" she asked, sounding hopeful. The girl's expression brightened when Squall nodded. "Oh, wait a minute," she said suddenly, recognition flashing in her eyes. ". . . I know you! You're the guy who showed me around earlier today!"

"Squall actually_ helped_ someone?" Zell remarked, to which the cadet shrugged.

"My name is Selphie," she explained. "I was with Alpha Squad, magic support, but things got a bit hairy during the Galbadian counterattack, so I got stuck with messenger duty. I've been looking all over for you guys, you weren't at the Central Square, and Xu is really pissed about that, wanted me to find the squad leader and tell him that she was going to tear him apart and . . . ."

"Whoa, slow down," Zell said quickly. "You got a message for Seifer?"

"He's your squad leader, right?" Selphie asked, and Squall nodded. "Do you know where he is?"

"_Fuck!_ Look out! He's nuts!"

The trio of cadets whirled toward the Communications Tower in time to see a Galbadian soldier go flying out the door, half his chest incinerated, and another stumble into the open air, blood flowing from a rent torso, before he hit the stone pavement. Standing in the entrance to the tower was Seifer Almasy, his gunblade bloodied and with a triumphant sneer on his face and he pumped a fist in the air.

"Someday, Squall!" he called. "Someday I'm going to tell you about _my_ dream!" As soon as he spoke, the squad leader dove back into the tower, and the sounds of battle could be heard within.

"This is never easy," Selphie moaned, and without warning, she dashed between Squall and Zell and over the short cliff face, sliding down to the ground below. "Come on!" she shouted even before she'd hit the pavement.

_No time to go around,_ Squall thought, and he moved to follow her.

"Hey, Squall, what are you-" Zell began, and then watched open-mouthed as Squall leapt off the side of the ledge and slid down the thirty feet to where Selphie was waiting. "Aw, you're nuts man!" But despite his protest, Zell did the same, dropping off the side of the cliff and chasing Selphie and Squall. He had barely hit the ground when Selphie stormed into the front doors of the radio tower, Squall just behind her.

"Jeez, she's as bad as Seifer," Zell grumbled as he brought up the rear.

* * *

Private First Class Pirgi ran up to his superior, a Second Lieutenant clad in heavy armor featuring numerous pieces of electronic equipment, designed for interfacing with machinery. The Lieutenant was fiddling with an access panel on a level about midway up the tower, and several other technicians were also working diligently around him. 

"Sir!" Pirgi said, saluting. "The men down below report-"

"Wait, Private," the superior ordered. "Hmm, let's see. Ion flux connector, check. Backup regulators, check . . ."

"But, sir, I-"

"Shut up, Private!" the officer barked. "I have work to do! Connections, good . . ."

"It's urgent-"

"Private!" the Lieutenant shouted, catching the attention of the other techs. "If you disobey my orders one more time I'm going to shoot you myself for insubordination! Our highest priority is to repair this tower, and nothing short of a full on assault is gonna stop that! Do I make myself clear!"

"Yes sir!" Pirgi replied, saluting. "The news that we are under attack below can wait, sir!" The officer began turning back to his panel, but then Pirgi's words hit him like a sack of bricks. He spun around immediately.

"What!"

"Yes, sir!" Pirgi shouted, happy he'd finally gotten the Lieutenant's attention. "The men below are reporting that they are under attack!"

"Why the hell didn't you tell me sooner?" the officer shouted angrily. "Get your weapons! We have hostiles! Pirgi, did they say who the attackers were?"

"No, just that they were under attack. Something like 'Fuck! Run away, there's a SeeD attacking us down here!'"

"Wait a minute!" Pirgi's superior ordered, confused. "One man? A single man is attacking us?"

"But they said he was a SeeD, sir," Pirgi confirmed.

"Impossible!" the Lieutenant exclaimed. "Who would be crazy enough to take on a tower full of Galbadian soldiers?"

"That would be _me_."

Both private and officer spun towards the elevator, to see a tall, blonde teenager wielding a wicked grin and a bloody gunblade.

"Who the hell are you?!" the Lieutenant demanded, grabbing his rifle.

"Funny," the blonde kid said as he slid into a combat stance, his gunblade rising into a guard. "That's what the officer downstairs said right before I gutted him."

"Y-you!" the Lieutenant shouted, trembling in anger. "You killed our comrades!"

"Not all of them," the kid replied, shrugging. "Some ran like the cowards all you Galbadians are."

"Okay, that's enough of your mouth!" the officer ordered. "You're dead!"

"Sir," Pirgi began. "I don't think that's wise-"

"_Attack_!" The captain roared, and he and his men hurled themselves at the lone teenager.

Seifer only grinned as they closed in, his white teeth in a predatory smile.

* * *

The inside of the tower was dark and sparse, with a few faint, blinking lights scattered on metal panels on the walls and Galbadian-installed equipment. There was a stark contrast between the comparatively new Galbadian technology and the older, worn-out Dollet-engineered machinery. A large column stood in the center, which appeared to be part of an elevator shaft that lead to the upper floors. All that was taken in peripherally, however, for the cadets' attention was stolen by what else the room contained. 

A dozen or more corpses of Galbadian soldiers littered the floor or slumped against walls, slashed, stabbed, cut, or burned by magic. Blood was splattered along the walls or in pools underneath the dead soldiers. Many men still held weapons clutched in a tight death grip, and bullet holes and destroyed electronics were scattered around the room. Several corpses were decapitated or burned beyond recognition.

"Damn . . ." Zell muttered, while Selphie looked around in surprise. Squall surveyed the bodies and carnage, nodding. It seemed Seifer hadn't needed any help dealing with these Galbadians in close quarters; melee combat was where SeeDs dominated.

"No other ways in or out," Squall remarked, and looked to the elevator shaft, and the waiting platform.

"Then he must have gone up," Selphie replied, and gingerly stepped past the bodies and toward the platform. Squall and Zell followed, and Selphie peered over the controls for the lift.

"Which level?" she asked, glancing to Squall. He blinked, surprised she was deferring to him, and then looked up. The interior of the tower was hollow, with multiple levels up its hundred or so-foot height. Knowing Seifer . . . .

"Top level," he replied. "Seifer's probably up there." She nodded and hit the button for the top floor. The elevator clicked and then the thrum of machinery filled the air as the platform ascended, rising toward the upper floors.

* * *

"Major Biggs!" Second Lieutenant Wedge Lucas shouted over the wailing wind tearing along the top external level of the tower. Wedge stepped over to the Major, who was engrossed with repair work inside a huge access panel beside a satellite dish. "Sir! There have been reports of a monster-shaped shadow on top of the tower." He waited for the Major to reply, but none came. After a few moments, he leaned closer and shouted into the Major's ears. "Major Biggs!"

"Ah! What?" startled, Galbadian Major George Biggs looked up from his work momentarily. Like other high-ranking officers, Biggs wore a red uniform with armor that resembled that of any other soldier, excepting heavier armor and extra equipment in the arms, which lent his arms added strength.

"Be quiet!" he ordered his subordinate as he turned back to his work. "I'm busy! We've been working on this damn thing for over a day now! This goes like this, and . . ." Biggs looked down at the old, outdated spanner in his hands. "Geez, what's with these crappy old tools! And . . . and . . ." He slammed the spanner down on the metal floor and then punched some random object in anger. "Why do I have to make all the repairs? Just because I happen to be the most qualified at electrical maintenance in Eastern Command doesn't mean-" A jolt of electricity shot through the equipment in the panel, forcing Biggs to hop back momentarily. Then, he roared and kicked the metal casing around the panel, stubbing his toe and not denting the metal in the least.

Wedge wisely backed away.

"Sir, I'll check around while the repairs are being done!" Wedge shouted over the wind, and walked away, leaving Biggs to fume and complain. Shortly after Wedge had departed, Biggs resumed his repair work. After a few more minutes of grumbling, pounding metal, and occasionally actually working, Biggs saw he was close to completion.

"Let's see . . . Hmmm . . . Put this here . . ." The Major was so happy that he was close to being finished with his work that he didn't hear the sound of the elevator rising up behind him. The platform reached the top, and the trio of SeeD cadets hopped off, scanning for threats or Seifer. "This goes here . . . There! It's complete!" Biggs shouted triumphantly.

Beneath their feet, the trio of SeeD cadets heard a deep thrumming, and tower began vibrating slightly but rapidly. Nearby, Squall spotted a wrench sliding out of Biggs's bag of tools and fall through a hole in the floor panels, dropping hundreds of feet into the sea below.

Deep down inside the tower, old turbines, left alone for over a decade and a half, began to turn. Dollet-engineered machinery and new Galbadian technology began to operate in synch, as electricity began flowing through the tower as old connections and fuses activated once more. Lights activated, and in the central shaft of the tower, next to the elevator, a huge cylinder began rising.

Squall spun as the cylinder, at least fifty feet tall, shot up behind him, before reaching the apex of the tower and coming to a halt. Everything was still for a moment, and then the cylinder began turning, like a massive cannon, and rotated to the west. The top half of the cylinder split and slid apart, revealing three flat panels around a central antenna. The trio of panels spread outward, forming a disk around the antenna, then curved inward, becoming a convex satellite dish. The antenna seemed to open up then, with many smaller antennae branching out and pointing in the same direction as the central device. Moments later, a faint white beam of light began to extend outward from the dish, a beam that quickly solidified into a strong white line shooting off into the sky.

While all this had been happening, no one had noticed that the elevator had once again begun its slow descent down the tower.

"Pretty," Selphie remarked as she and Zell peered up at the tower overhead. Squall tore his gaze away from the spectacle of the tower's activation and turned toward the Galbadian officer that had restarted the tower's operations. The officer turned away from the panel, and jumped in surprise when he saw SeeD cadets standing behind him.

"Hey, who the hell are you?" he demanded, before his brain caught up with the uniforms and the scattered reports that they had gotten regarding the invading mercenaries.

"What are you doing up here?" Squall demanded, knowing that Seifer wasn't up here simply because the man was still alive. Biggs, cornered and outnumbered by SeeD cadets, did the only thing he could do.

_"Wedge!"_ he shouted. The SeeD cadets turned, suddenly becoming aware that there may be more than just a one man on this platform, and in that instant Biggs dashed between them, toward the elevator platform. Squall and Zell whirled on the man, but he was already between them, at the elevator, even as it returned-

-bearing Seifer Almasy, whose left arm shot up and smashed into the Galbadian's jaw, launching him backward off his feet.

"Secure that piece of shit," Seifer commanded, and Squall and Zell grabbed Biggs' arms and hauled him to his feet.

"Let me go!" commanded Biggs, his voice full of nonexistent authority. "You have no idea what you're dealing with!" Seifer's response came in the form of raising his gunblade and digging the tip into Biggs' chin.

"What was that?" he asked. "Why are you guys repairing this tower? I would ask the men below, but I killed them all before they could say anything useful."

"Um, I, uhhh . . . ." Biggs began to say, but any answers were cut off as the less than punctual Wedge Lucas rushed around from behind the central antennae of the tower and leapt at Seifer, his sword descending viciously. Seifer heard the attack coming an instant before it landed, and whirled around, Hyperion meeting sword in a quick flurry of swordplay as he turned the attack and countered.

The cadets were momentarily distracted by the new arrival, and Biggs took that moment to viciously swing his arms and break free of the cadets' grasp. Even as Squall and Zell were reacting to the sudden reversal, Biggs was diving for his carbine, or at least until a whipping chain ensnared his leg and sent the officer crashing hard to the metal platform. He looked back, to see the chain of Selphie's nunchaku wrapped around his leg, and snarled.

"Where are you going?" Selphie asked, and she flexed her small arms. The junction-enhanced strength in her limbs pulled the Galbadian officer back toward her, even as he started shaking free of the chain. Biggs stood up to face Selphie, and grabbed for his sidearm, when Squall and Zell caught up, flanking the small cadet, gunblade and metal-plated knuckles at the ready. The officer hesitated, not wanting to tangle with a trio of SeeD cadets, especially when his subordinate was already fighting for his life against the group's apparent leader. The handgun wavered in their air as he pointed it at the cadets, thinking for a way out of this situation.

A cry of pain from behind the cadets momentarily drew their attention, but only for a split second; they had already seen Biggs take advantage of any lapse of attention on their part. Behind them, Wedge fell to the metal platform, his right arm cut open by a strike from Seifer's blade. The squad leader pointed his sword down at the Lieutenant's neck, and glanced back at he cadets behind him.

"Wedge, you're useless!" Biggs growled angrily as he stood off with the other three cadets. "No pay for you this month!"

"Should have stayed home," moaned the wounded officer.

"Hey, what are you guys waiting on?" Seifer ordered. "Take him down, he's only got a pistol!" Biggs glanced toward Seifer as he spoke, and Squall's left hand snapped up, drawing his sidearm and firing. A .45 slug smashed through Biggs' right shoulder armor and into his arm, and the officer's pistol fell from his hands as he cried out I n pain.

"Now see?" Seifer added, grinning. "That's more like-"

Whatever he was going to say was cut off as a massive wall of wind suddenly blasted across the upper platform, launching everyone standing off their feet and sending them rolling across the top of the structure. Squall's fingers caught onto a groove in the platform, and he came to a stop as Selphie and Zell were nearly swept off the top of the tower. Seifer stabbed his gunblade into the floor and held on, standing tall, and both Galbadian officers were buffeted about, Wedge thrown against the central column and Biggs smashing into one of the smaller antennae on the edges of the platform. Both men were knocked unconscious, even as the SeeD cadets started standing.

The beating of massive wings resounded across the platform as the cadets realized what had just caused that barrage of raging wind: a massive beast that had been lurking at the top of the tower, disturbed by the sudden and violent reactivation of the structure. It was red and purple, with huge, bat-like wings, a pair of massive, muscled arms, and no legs. Instead of the legs, it featured a massive abdomen, tipped with a stinger longer than Seifer was tall.

He monster let out an unearthly cry that chilled the cadets to the bone, and one of its arms swept across at Seifer, whose status as the only still-standing human earned the monster's ire. He leapt back, tearing his gunblade free, and the weapon snapped across into the monster's hand, drawing dark purple blood.

"What the hell is this thing?" he shouted, snarling at the creature that had dared to interrupt his victory. Squall, meanwhile, looked back to the cadets behind him, and took control of the situation.

"Zell, on me!" he called. "Close and engage! Selphie, cover us with magic!" Selphie nodded, and Zell smacked a fist into a palm, eager to get back into the fray. Despite his cautious nature, when battle was joined the brawler was the first into battle, and Selphie, hailing from Trabia Garden, was likely a powerful spellcaster and was better off at the rear of the group. The smaller cadet immediately began focusing, channeling energy, as Zell and Squall charged across the platform at the fiend, even as it swung again at Seifer.

The creature noticed the charging pair, and turned to face them. Squall skidded to a halt and dove aside as the monster began to inhale, and then released a massive wave of wind at the pair. Zell took the blast head-on and was launched backwards once more, though Squall was able to dodge the worst of the blast and came up, gunblade in hand. He considered pulling his rifle off his shoulder and firing, but dismissed the idea; the fiend was far too large for the small 5.56mm rounds of the M4 to harm. Besides, he didn't even know _where_ to shoot this damn thing; as with most fiends it likely had a freakish anatomy that defied normal classification.

Reluctantly, Squall pressed forward, rushing toward the monster again as Zell rose. They were going to have to get in close and kill this thing the ugly, old-fashioned way. A flash of light cut past, and a blast of brilliant lightning crashed into the monster's flank as it took another swing at the agile Seifer. The acrid sink of sizzling flesh stung Squall's nostrils as the beast pivoted in mid-air, its flank blackened by Selphie's spell. Squall leapt up at the fiend, gunblade arcing back-

-and was launched away when the fiend sent a clubbing backhand that smashed into his torso. Squall's chest went numb for an instant from the power behind the blow, and he rolled across the platform. The detonation of a gunblade's shell struck his ears as he rose, and Seifer leapt backward, purple blood flying off his blade as he took advantage of Squall's distraction. A blur flew past the cadet as Zell re-entered the fray, and both his fists smashed into the enraged fiend. Squall heard the meaty _thump-thump_ of the brawler hitting flesh and bone with his metal knuckles, and saw the monster flail its arms angrily.

Zell cried out in pain as he hit the platform next to Squall and kicked up onto his feet, blood streaming from a pair of cuts along his torso. A barrage of fireballs flashed past, and buried into the monster's face and chest, and it howled in pain once again.

"Melee isn't going to work!" Squall said to Zell, raising a hand toward the fiend. "Switch to magic!" Zell grunted and nodded, and both cadets raised their hands toward the beast, focusing and drawing forth the magical energies they had gathered within them. Blazing fire and crackling lightning blasted forth, colliding with the monster, which howled once again in pain, and then shot forward, arms shooting down. Zell dove aside, and Squall ducked, as a claw raked along his left shoulder and partially tore open his jacket.

The cadet lunged forward, the Revolver swooping across and chopping into the fiend's abdomen, the gunblade firing a concussive blast and tearing a savage wound in its side. The monster whipped its arm down, smashing it into Squall's head, and launched him back across the platform.

"Die, you sack of shit!" Seifer shouted from the beast's other side, and plunged Hyperion home, firing his gunblade. The monster thundered a cry of pain and spun on the squad leader, slashing down viciously with its claws. Seifer dodged backward, barely evading the striking arms of his attacker.

"We need to hit this thing harder," Squall muttered, shaking his head. "Regular magic isn't going to kill this thing. Zell, what GFs do you have?"

"Standard issue," Zell responded with a shrug. "Shiva, Ifrit, Quetzacotl."

"Summon Ifrit," he said, and the brawler nodded. "I'll keep it distracted. Selphie we need you to support us with-"

Even as Squall turned toward her, shimmering green and white energy played over his body, and then Zell's. The light flowed into the wounds they had suffered and began to clean and close them. In a couple of seconds the two were fully healed, and Squall nodded to the small cadet in thanks. Beside him, Zell's eyes were closed in concentration as he drew forth Ifrit's avatar, and thus Squall broke away from the brawler, running across the platform and circling around the monster. The fiend itself was still chasing Seifer, its arms smashing into the metal platform as the agile squad leader continued evading the heavy strikes.

Sizzling lightning burned the monster's rear, and it spun on Squall. Seifer shot a hand up and loosed a gout of white-hot flame against the beast's backside, and the monster flapped its wings, backing off and spinning to face both of them. Even as Squall was moving to cast another spell, the fiend began gathering more air inside its lungs, and then released another wall of flame. Squall was lifted off his feet and sent rolling across the platform, and Seifer crashed hard into another antennae. Squall's hands flew out as he was swept toward the platform's edge, and his fingers hooked inside a groove before he could roll off the side of the tower.

Back near Selphie, Zell opened his eyes, and once again the air burned as Ifrit tore through the fabric of reality and emerged into the material world. The demonic Guardian Force turned on the winged fiend, and fire swirled around the avatar's arms, coalescing into a massive ball of searing magma. Before the fiend could react, Ifrit's arms pumped and the mass of lava hurtled forth, exploding on contact. The hellish flames burned and tore at the monster's skin, the fires tearing at its hide as molten rock scorched flesh. The Guardian Force roared in triumph and vanished in a swirl of ash and smoke, taking the raging heat with him and leaving the monster reeling, skin burned and smoking, but somehow still alive.

"Son of a bitch," Seifer snarled as he rose, his back screaming in pain. Squall hauled himself back up to his feet, and saw a deadly gleam shoot across the squad leader's eyes as fury etched across his features. He gripped Hyperion tightly, and focused, teeth gnashing together in raging anger and hate.

Frustration, anger, raw hatred, all of these emotions were powerful, and with them a human could channel incredible strength and energy. Such power was different for each person, but regardless of the individual, when one's emotions reached this high point, the sheer fury of such anger and desperation could be unleashed with the proper training. This technique was one of the strongest and most dangerous powers a person could have, and properly harnessing that power would turn it into a devastating weapon. The technique of utilizing one's feelings of rage and frustration was one of SeeD's most potent weapons. Many enemies had believed they had a SeeD or cadet defeated and doomed, when that person would suddenly unleash the power within, catching their foes completely off-guard.

Within SeeD, the power to turn one's anger and frustration into a weapon was referred to as "breaking the limit," or more colloquially as simply "Limit."

"_Fuck_ you, you moon-bred freak!" Seifer shouted, and amber light began flowing around his body. "No mercy for you!" A blast of fire erupted from his hands, stabbing into the fiend and stunning the beast for an instant, an instant wherein Seifer twirled his gunblade faster than the eye could see. _"Die!"_ he roared, then slashed his weapon down, into the metal floor, and then back up. A shockwave of energy erupted from Hyperion, taking on the form of a spinning blade that slashed straight through the monster, causing blood and ichors to splatter out its chest and the other side of its body. It fluttered back, taken by surprise at the power within Seifer's Limit.

But it wasn't dead.

The fiend began to inhale once again, and Seifer let out an enraged curse as he tried to focus his Limit once again. Squall dove behind another antennae as the beast unleashed another wall of blasting wind, which hurled Seifer toward the edge of the platform. The squad leader bounced along the metal floor, and the monster began to follow, when a barrage of fireballs caught its attention. It whirled on Zell and Selphie, even as the brawler rushed across the platform, roaring a battle cry at the top of his lungs as he drew the fiend off his comrades. He sprang forward, left leg arcing back and shooting forward in a devastating drop-kick that cracked fiendish bone. Even as Zell's kick drove home, Squall emerged from behind cover and started running toward the beast, intent on supporting his comrades.

The monster reeled once more, but recovered almost instantly, its arms snapping forward and launching Zell backward halfway across the platform. Selphie immediately ran toward him, preparing to cast a healing spell, when the fiend turned its eyes toward her. A muscled arm shot down, smashing into the side of the small cadet and hurling her off her feet. The beast closed in on her, raising its arms and preparing to finish her off.

"No!" Squall shouted, and his left hand snapped down, drawing his M1911 and raising it toward the fiend. The firearm kicked once, then twice, then a half-dozen times as the cadet emptied the remainder of the weapon's magazine into the fiend's flank. It paused, turning toward the charging cadet with fury burning in its eyes, and Squall leapt at the beast as it pivoted. It finished turning in time to see the Revolver's heavy, broad blade and curving tip stab between its eyes and drive in almost up to the gun aspect.

Squall snarled and depressed the trigger, firing a concussive blast into the monster that pulverized bone and liquefied internal organs. He fired a second blast, and the fiend shuddered, slowly raising its arms, as if to tear the cadet off its body. Squall grit his teeth and his finger tightened around the gunblade's trigger once again.

A third blast blew apart its head.

The corpse flopped to the metal platform, limp and dead, and Squall nearly fell off the fiend's body. He tore his gunblade free, even as the corpse began to break apart, purple light and energy flowing off the fiend's body as portions of its corpse began to flake and break off, the body disintegrating. Within a few moments, the fiend's body was gone, nothing but dust and scattered energy.

Squall turned toward his tired and battered comrades. Zell was rising to his feet, shaking his head from the blow he had received, while Seifer was hauling himself back up onto the platform, still looking proud and strong despite the beating he'd taken. Selphie had started standing a swell, casting another healing spell over herself, and as she recovered, she spotted Seifer. Immediately, the small cadet dashed over toward the squad leader, waving her hands.

The absurdity of the situation then struck Squall. They had just gone through a brutal battle with a fiendish freak atop a reactivated radio tower just so they could get Selphie to Seifer, and they didn't even know why she had needed to find him in the first place.

"Bravo Squad leader?" she called, and he nodded. "Xu's sent out new orders! We've pushed up the withdraw time to 1900 hours."

"1900?" Seifer echoed, and he checked his clock. "Shit, its 1830 now! Why'd you wait so long to tell us?"

"Well, if you guys were at the Central Square like you were supposed to be," she answered, putting her hands on her hips. Seifer grunted and stepped around her, toward the rest of his squad.

"Okay, Bravo Squad!" Seifer called. "We've got thirty minutes to withdraw to Lapin Beach!" he stepped onto the elevator platform, and waved a hand at Squall and Zell. "Better run!" As he spoke, the elevator started descending, and Seifer passed out of sight a moment later.

"What the hell?" Zell shouted, running over to the elevator shaft. "He just fucking abandoned us! Who the hell does he think he is?"

"Ask him when we catch up with him," Squall replied calmly, though the news did surprise him. They would have to run to get back to the beach in under thirty minutes, though with their junctions they should be able to get there in plenty of time, as long as they didn't dawdle.

"Hey, there's another elevator shaft back here!" Selphie called as she ran around to the other side of the platform. Without hesitating, Zell and Squall ran around the antennae to join her, and the trio of cadets descended back to the lower levels of the tower.

* * *

As their elevator dropped out of view, Major George Biggs, still injured, crawled over to his equipment bag. He reached in and snatched up a control panel, then laughed to himself as he thumbed it on

"Those little twerps are the targets!" he whispered in infuriated glee as he hit a number of buttons, and set the generic SeeD cadet uniform as a target. "Wait 'till you see one of our new toys . . . Now go!" He shouted suddenly, pumping his armored fist. "_Destroy_ those little fuckers!"

Nearby, a dark shape rose from its dormant state, responding to Biggs's orders. It marked its targets, and with a deep clang of metal on metal, it began moving.

* * *

-

* * *

This chapter was . . . troublesome. There was something about the old battle against the monster atop the tower that bugged me in the first Gunblade, so I went and rewrote it, trying to tighten it up a little bit. Of course, it took me a while, as I wasn't quite as interested in reweriting that battle as I was in the original, maybe because I've already written it before? I dunno. Anyway, after getting finished with it, I'm satisfied with how it turned out. Astute readers will note that I cut out the Anacondaur battle as well, as it served no purpose in a narrative context.

Until next chapter . . . .


	7. Chapter VI: Juggernaut

_**Chapter VI: Juggernaut**_

"Twenty-eight minutes!" Squall shouted as they hurried from the tower. They had just over twenty-eight minutes to cover a distance that had taken over an hour and a half to cover before, so understandably, the trio of cadets were running flat-out through the double-doors. If they couldn't make it to the extraction point in time, they would still be in friendly territory, but getting back to Garden would be complicated, as they would either have to hitch a ride on a local transport or pass through Galbadian-occupied Timber . . . .

Despite the huffing and panting from their breaths as they left, Zell thought he heard something overhead, far above them - a metallic clanging sound. He glanced up, and spotted something on the platform overhead, where the cadets had just fought for their lives.

A huge, black shape became visible against the pale orange sky, moving edge of the platform on a quartet of large, spider-like legs. Then, without warning, it leapt, dropping down towards them.

"Look out!" Zell shouted, catching the attention of his comrades. They spun around in time to see Zell scrambling back-

-and then a huge, black machine _crashed _down right where he'd been standing, the mechanized weapon landing nimbly on its four clawed legs, the impact nearly hurling the cadets off their feet. With a thunderous, piston-like stomping sound, its legs spread out, balancing the heavy weight of the machine, which then turned its attention towards the cadets, as if sizing them up.

For a moment, no one moved, still shocked by the presence of the Galbadian war machine. It was huge, twice Squall or Zell's height, and its long, rectangular body was as wide as it was tall. It was painted matte black, excepting blue designs on its legs, red markings across its body, and the steel-gray grating on the front of the machine, behind which gleamed the dull red of an active sensor system. A quartet of turbines in the back powered the machine, and a pair of black and gray metallic pinchers, like those of a scorpion, were poised just in front of the gray grating of its "head." On its side, in blocky, Galbadian script, one could read the number and letter designation "X-ATM092," and scrawled beneath in crude, white paint were the words "Black Widow."

The machine, its sensors confirming the humans were indeed wearing SeeD uniforms, stepped forward, its metal legs gouging chunks out of the concrete bricks below as it moved to dispose of the cadets.

"Scatter!" Squall shouted, raising the Revolver as the machine charged. It suddenly stopped, one of its legs rising up, and the clawed appendage shot out at him. Squall ducked and spun away, the blurring blade catching him on the shoulder and tearing his jacket, and drawing blood from his shoulder. The cadet came back around and slashed his gunblade across, the sharpened edge slicing into the metal leg but doing little damage to the hardened machine.

The leg retracted just as Zell came in and launched a quick combo of punches into the machine's "face." His GF-enhanced strength smashed into the metal grille, and satisfyingly dented the bars, but the machine did not seem to notice until it raised a pincher and attempted to slam it down through Zell's skull. The agile martial artist dove away, and the claw only smashed stone.

Sparks and electricity flew all along the machine's front end as Selphie unleashed a barrage of lightning, the powerful spell playing hell with the front end of the machine, and the electrical blast being carried all throughout its body by its metal armor, overloading surge protectors and shattering machinery.

However, the war machine remained undeterred, and came forward again, pinchers jabbing at Squall and Zell. Both cadets ducked and dodged, and Zell hopped over the pincers to land a powerful kick into the machine's front end. The sheer power behind the kick caused the weapon to stumble back, almost through the Comms Tower's doors. Squall, meanwhile, went low, slashing his gunblade up into the underside of the machine's "head." As the Revolver sliced in, Squall fired a quick blast, the shock of concussive force shattering through the heavy armor to damage electronics within.

Another lightning spell roared in and blasted the mechanized weapon, and Squall had to leap back as the machine toppled forward, Selphie's spell overloading and disabling the device. It dropped down into the pavement and went still, and the cadets breathed a sigh of relief.

"Let's get the hell out of here!" Zell shouted, reminding them of the limited time they had to spare. Immediately, the cadets ran toward the trail that would lead them back down the mountain, leaving behind the broken Galbadian war machine. The brief battle had only lasted a minute, but that was a minute the cadets did not have.

* * *

Galbadian computer technicians and programmers were quite skilled, and their programming capabilities were shown in their ability to code the army's military robot forces. They had even developed an advanced experimental artificial intelligence program, that was capable of learning from its mistakes and adjusting to them, as well as developing new methods and solutions to a problem. Such an AI had yet to have been tested in the field, so the Galbadian military command had decided to put it into use on a relatively minor military conflict, to determine its effectiveness. That conflict happened to be the one in Dollet, and the AI was included in the latest model of the Galbadian "X-ATM" series of urban warfare machines, X-ATM092, along with advanced targeting programming, new weaponry, and highly advanced redundant systems and heavy armor. The engineers were proud of their new weapon, which promised to dominate the future world battlefield. 

Those engineers would not have been disappointed in X-ATM092's seemingly easy defeat at the hands of the cadets. In fact, those engineers would have merely smiled at the cadets who now thought they were safe and the war machine was destroyed. In fact, the weapon was far from defeated; a few spells and some strikes by superhumanly-powered SeeD cadets would never be enough to stop this mighty a weapon. In fact, were it not for the spells Selphie had cast, X- ATM092 wouldn't have even been slowed by Squall and Zell's efforts. The lightning spells had, however, done heavy damage, but that was nothing that the prototype could not survive.

Even as the cadets fled, within X-ATM092 a series of tiny robots swarmed over its overloaded and damaged electronics. Like a horde of frenzied mechanics, the tiny robots reassembled and repaired X- ATM092's wounds.

In the meantime, X-ATM092's artificial intelligence reviewed its stored maps of the Dollet region, narrowing down its prey's escape routes. Contrary to whatever the cadets had thought, the machine's sensors had actively tracked their escape and knew where they had fled. It immediately realized that there was only one trail its targets could use to get down the mountain.

With that done, the machine then focused on what it had learned from its targets. Two were close-quarters specialists, and while agile, they did not seem strong enough to stand against the weapon for long in melee. The third target, the smallest, was the most dangerous. Acting in support, that target could deal out tremendous damage with electrical magic. It made a note to eliminate _that_ one first.

Three seconds before the repair robots had brought X-ATM092 back onto its feet, it had already marked its own attack route, had assembled a number of contingency plans to ensure its prey could not escape, and was preparing its next plan of attack. Fully repaired, X-ATM092 stood and marked the path of its targets.

Its piston-like legs pumping and clanging, X-ATM092, the Black Widow, resumed the hunt.

* * *

The cadets had almost managed to work their way back up the trail to the spot where they had spied on the Galbadians earlier, and still had about twenty-five minutes left. By Squall's estimation, if they kept up this pace, then with their GF-enhanced strength fueling their speed they should be able to reach Dollet in about seven minutes and be back at Lapin Beach in another ten. 

Seifer would almost certainly beat them there, Squall knew. Was that his plan all along when he'd stolen the elevator? To reach the beach before Squall? It sounded like the kind of petty competition Seifer would try to one-up Squall on, and-

Squall was jolted out of his thoughts by a familiar metallic stomping, and a quick glance behind him confirmed his sudden fears: the Galbadian machine was hot on their heels, seemingly undamaged by the brutal barrage it had suffered earlier.

"The hell!" Zell protested, as both he and Selphie turned to face the returning threat. "I thought that thing was-"

"Forget it!" Squall ordered as the machine stomped up the path, its sensors locked on the trio. "Run!" They couldn't risk the time to stop and smash this thing again. Without hesitating, the other two cadets followed Squall as he charged up the path, their GF-enhanced legs leaving the war machine behind on the narrow mountain trail.

They soon passed the cliff top where Seifer had observed the Galbadians and Selphie had joined them, and continued down the path. Squall led the group, while Zell was in the middle. Selphie was right behind him, only trailing by a few feet.

Then, a black multi-ton mass of metal, legs, and destruction leapt straight up the cliff face and missed Selphie by inches, its legs swooping down towards her head and almost smashing her skull. She yelped in surprise and ducked, rolling away as the machine landed nimbly on the rocks above the cliff. It spun around immediately and charged again, aiming deliberately for Selphie once more.

Zell and Squall met its charge, the gunblade-wielding cadet hurling a lightning spell at the machine while the martial artist planted a mighty flying kick into its grille. The spider machine was knocked off-balance for a second, long enough to allow Selphie to recover and add her own electrical spell to the attack while Squall joined Zell in close-quarters.

X-ATM092 took a barrage of brutal punches and cleaving gunblade blows to its front before stepping back and turning to the left, almost defensively. Squall and Zell followed up, trying to disable the machine quickly. They immediately realized their mistake as the machine's forward right leg shot out in a sweeping slash. Zell backflipped out of its way, but Squall took the clawed end across the chest and was knocked off his feet, blood flying from his torn shirt. The machine came right in behind its own attack, stomping over to the downed cadet and attacking him with a pair of raised pinchers, which dove down at Squall's prone form.

The cadet rolled out of the way frantically, the pinchers burying into the rock mere inches from Squall's side. He continued scrambling aside as the machine raised another of its legs and attempted to drive the piston-powered claw into his chest. Squall came out beside the machine on its left side and leapt to his feet before it could pursue.

Then, Zell was overhead again, once more pounding away with superhuman strength into the weapon's front grille. A third bolt of lightning struck the machine, which still stubbornly stood under Selphie's assault. It tore its pinchers free of the ground and stomped forward, forcing Zell back, and then the weapon shifted its angle slightly, bringing it in line with Selphie once more.

A fourth devastating lightning bolt blasted the machine's backside, hitting its turbines precisely, courtesy of Squall, who had circled around behind the weapon. The electrical blast overloaded and disabled several of the turbines, and the weapon stumbled, losing power to critical systems. Its legs suddenly stopped moving, but forward momentum still carried it towards Selphie. She dove out of the way, barely getting clear as the huge weapon hurtled over the edge of the cliff, tumbling down to smash into the concrete bricks below.

All three cadets paused for a second to catch their breath. Squall shook his head at the difference in the machine's attack this time, and at its surprising tactical and strategic skills. Instead of blindly pursuing them, it had apparently doubled back on its attack route and instead ambushed them. And the attack had been deliberately focused on Selphie this time, an intelligent move considering she'd blasted it down with powerful magic the first time.

"That was close," Selphie remarked. Zell nodded.

"Yeah," he agreed. "But we can't stick around! We gotta get moving!"

Squall nodded in agreement and the trio charged down the mountainside, leaving X-ATM092's broken wreckage behind them.

Or at least, they _thought_ they did. Only about two minutes down the mountain, however, they once again heard the familiar metallic stomping of the inexorable metal monstrosity.

"Aw, _hell_ no!" Zell shouted in denial, looking over his shoulder. The weapon was once more on its feet, and had leapt back up to the spot where it had ambushed them minutes ago. Still, that was at a fairly great distance, and the machine only looked like a distant and ominous shadow.

"Don't worry!" Selphie shouted, sounding hopeful. "It can't get to us down here! We're too far away!"

* * *

If X-ATM092 could have had emotions, it would have felt a combination of irritation and respect for its targets. Its ambush had not gone off as well as it intended; the sword-wielder was surprisingly agile and also seemed to be able to deal out electrical damage to a devastating degree. It made the artificial intelligence equivalent of a mental note about that, filing the sword-wielder away as the most dangerous of its targets. 

It also made a note to not expose its backside to attacks, especially electrical ones. The failure of the turbines had been most unfortunate, and it couldn't allow that to happen again. It would make sure to keep its foes in front when at all possible.

X-ATM092 also decided to change its tactics. It seemed mere brute force, using leg swipes and pincher attacks, was not going to defeat these targets; it was going to have to use its more powerful weaponry, and make more effective use of its mighty speed and jumping power.

That done, X-ATM092 stood at its position, watching the targets flee, though not in the helplessness that the cadets believed. It knew it couldn't possibly catch up to its prey, at least not quickly, by pursuing them on foot down the trails, and its current location offered it an excellent vantage point. It paid particular attention to the path its targets took, and how the trail narrowed at several points. One of these points, it noted, was at the top of one of the many artificial stairways leading up the path - an excellent position from which to strike at its targets.

The weapon hunched down low, its legs preparing to spring and hurl it up and then down onto that location. Its computers calculated the distance, and factored in the wind speed and direction. The weapon made the appropriate adjustments, all the while watching the trio of cadets below, waiting patiently.

* * *

Squall, Zell, and Selphie ran down the stairs, hurrying as fast as their legs could carry them. They still had twenty minutes left and were not too far from the edge of the city proper. The bridge crossing the ravine was visible ahead, further down the path, Galbadian corpses still littering its length. 

Squall kept glancing over his shoulder at the huge war machine, despite Selphie's proclamation that it was way too far away to threaten them. The spider machine still stood up there, looking ominous yet impotent, and Squall could still see the faint red glow of its sensors, even at this distance.

While he had been checking, both Zell and Selphie had gotten further ahead. Those two had gained on and passed Squall earlier, who himself had fallen back almost unconsciously. He was still concerned about the machine, so he had taken up rear guard so as not to give it another shot at either of his comrades.

"Hurry, Squall!" Zell shouted as the gunblade-wielding cadet stopped halfway down the steps to look back at the machine. It still stood there, mighty but harmless, watching them flee. He turned back to Zell and nodded, then began to run down the steps again. He almost reached the bottom when he looked back up.

It was no longer at the top. Instead, the multi-ton killing machine came right down the side of the mountain, leaping the entire distance to slam down onto the steps no more than ten feet behind Squall. The shockwave from its impact knocked Squall off his feet, but he scrambled up quickly, backing away in preparation for the Black Widow's coming assault.

It didn't advance. Instead, even as the cadet was pulling himself up onto his feet, the machine was spreading its legs out wide, as if bracing itself. Both its pinchers folded up around its head, and suddenly, steam poured out from its turbine engines, rising up over the machine's back. A glowing ball of energy began forming directly underneath the machine's "face."

Squall barely had time to react as a yellow beam shot out from that ball, striking the ground right in front of him.

Then he was airborne, hurled up and back by the force of the explosion as the machine's attack blew the ground at his feet apart like an artillery shell. Squall came down right on top of Zell, who, along with Selphie, had spun around to face the suddenly very real danger that the machine posed once more.

Selphie wasted no time launching another lightning spell the machine's way. The electrical blast staggered the machine as it had before, but didn't come close to stopping it. In response, the weapon set its feet once more, and a second ball of energy formed.

"Scatter!" Squall shouted, diving away from Zell. Selphie backed away quickly, and Zell dove in the opposite direction in an attempt to avoid the weapon's beam.

The energy ray shot out again, but to the cadets' surprise, the beam arced along the ground at their feet. Another tremendous explosion, arcing in a semicircle, blasted the unprepared cadets off their feet.

"Oww," Selphie muttered as she stood back up.

"Dammit!" Zell roared, leaping to his feet and preparing to charge the Galbadian war machine. "You just don't know when to quit, do you!"

Squall struggled to his feet as well, grabbing a potion from his item belt and downing the blue liquid. As his wounds began to mend, he looked back up at the weapon.

A third ball of energy was forming.

Once more, the cadets were blasted off their feet by the energy attack, the ground now sporting multiple gashes from the unusual ray weapon. The machine, apparently satisfied that its targets were sufficiently weakened, advanced down the concrete steps.

The trio of cadets couldn't keep weathering this kind of attack. They were going to need heavier firepower.

"Zell, Selphie!" he shouted as the others rose to their feet and the machine closed in. "Quick, summon GFs!" The others nodded as Squall rose to his feet. At that moment, he noticed that the weapon was angled toward him now, advancing with a single-minded intent. It charged quickly, its pinchers raised. Squall dove out of the way, barely dodging the stabbing metal. He glanced over his shoulder to see Zell and Selphie concentrating, eyes tightly closed.

Squall would have to keep the machine busy until they were finished with their summons. He charged at the machine suddenly, diving right between its pinchers and slashing the Revolver across its grille. He fired a shot as he cut in, and was rewarded with an explosion that forced the weapon to take a couple of steps back. As it turned toward him again, Squall noted that the weapon's glowing red sensors seemed dimmer. It took one step forward, then froze in place, as if assessing a new threat. Squall knew immediately that he had bought at least one of the others enough time, and dove out of the way.

Ifrit hurled a massive pair of fireballs at X-ATM092, the fires scorching, warping, and melting metal. The weapon stepped back, caught off guard by the GF's summon. It turned to face the Guardian Force, as if preparing to attack it, when the entity of flame vanished. In an instant, the intense fires and heat faded, replaced by bone-chilling cold.

A human-sized icicle erupted from the ground, and within the frozen, glassy shape there moved a pale blue figure. The icicle shattered, frozen shards scattering through the air, and standing where it had broken was the shapely form of a woman, who seemed to be composed of frigid strands of glittering water and ice. The Guardian Force Shiva gestured with one hand at the scorched war machine, and a wave of absolutely frigid air struck the weapon, the cold freezing and immobilizing the machine under a thick layer of ice. Moments later, the ice around the weapon shattered, and the trio of cadets readied to hurl spells at the unstoppable machine as Shiva's brief presence in the material world came to an end.

Apparently, though, the ice had only shattered due to the weight of the weapon as it fell over on its side, crushed beneath the fury of the Guardian Forces.

Still, Squall held no illusions regarding their safety.

"Let's move!" he shouted, turning around quickly and waving the others to run on. They also spun around, realizing that they had probably stopped the seemingly indestructible Black Widow for only a moment.

Indeed, even as they came within sight of the bridge, the familiar mechanical stomping assaulted them once more as the weapon charged down the trail, none the worse for wear. All three cadets put on more speed, running with all their GF-enhanced strength. They pitted their supernatural speed against the machine's engines, and for a moment, the trio thought they were faster. The weapon was not gaining on them as they passed through a particularly narrow part of the trail, rock walls rising up on either side of them. A few moments later, the machine slammed into the rock walls, not able to squeeze its unyielding metal bulk through the gap.

Within seconds the cadets were on the bridge and running flat out. Meanwhile, the weapon still struggled to get through the gap, its own bulk and mechanized power straining against the rock walls. Cracks formed in the granite as nature contended with Galbadian engineering.

"The city!" Squall shouted. "We might be able to lose it inside the city limits!" Zell and Selphie agreed and put on as much more speed as humanly possible, hopping over the bodies of the dead Galbadians that Bravo Squad had dropped earlier. They were almost entirely across the bridge when X-ATM092 had managed to squeeze through the gap, or rather, had widened the gap to accommodate itself. It stomped out onto the bridge in time to see the cadets nearing the far end.

Squall looked back at the weapon as it stood at the far end of the bridge, and expected it to chase them across its length. Instead, the machine crouched low to the ground like a cat about to spring, and then it leapt.

The weapon covered the entire distance of the bridge and more, crashing down ahead of the cadets at the very end of the bridge, right where it met the street. It spun around and stomped towards the stunned trio as they skidded to a halt.

"What now?" Zell asked desperately.

"We have to disable it again!" Squall replied, raising his gunblade, even as the machine came to a stop. For an instant, Squall thought it was going to use its ray weapon again, but instead the pinchers folded up in front of the weapon's face, almost as if shielding it. It leaned back on its legs, once more looking like a pouncing cat, and then hurled itself forward at the cadets.

On the narrow bridge, the cadets couldn't hope to get out of the way of the simple but brutal attack. X-ATM092's multi-ton metal bulk slammed all three cadets and hurled them back off their feet, sending them rolling toward the far end of the bridge. They came to a stop, dazed and shocked by the brutal assault.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me," Zell complained, pushing himself shakily up on one knee. Selphie sat up, but didn't try to stand, instead gesturing at the advancing machine and loosing the last of her lightning spells at it.

The machine stumbled, but didn't fall as the electrical energy danced across its body and interfered with its movements. It continued stomping forward when Squall rose to his feet and charged, gunblade raised.

"Use your GFs again!" he shouted, dodging a jab of a pincher and slashing across with his gunblade. An explosion accompanied the cut as the Revolver fired off another blast. The others nodded and repeated their summoning.

X-ATM092's AI programming was well aware of the incoming attack, and it realized that the powerful assaults its foes had used before were being employed once again. It didn't hesitate, setting its feet once more and ignoring the swordsman as he slashed it across its "face," a concussive blast shattering electronics. The distinctive ball of energy of the DH-22 Ray Bomb weapon gathered underneath its sensors, and then the yellow beam shot out at the two cadets.

The explosions hurled them off their feet and right out of their summons, the manifesting Guardian Forces absorbing the damage for their summoners. The two battered cadets rose, the Guardian Forces momentarily silenced in their minds as the avatars began to recover from the brutal assault, having defended their charges while being made manifest.

As both cadets struggled to their feet, shaking their heads and feeling slightly disoriented, a sharp clang of metal on metal drew their attention. They looked up to see Squall still fighting with the machine, the Revolver scoring hits on the weapon's armor and the hybrid blade's blasts tearing at its internals. He was doing well, but they both knew that he couldn't hope to stand up in melee for much longer, even as the weapon turned its attention towards him.

Their Guardian Forces had been briefly disabled, so neither Zell nor Selphie could summon them again at that point, and they knew that X-ATM092 would not give them the time to summon any other GFs. Magic could bring the machine down again, but they had burned through all their lightning magic already, and their other spells were nowhere near as effective against the armored enemy.

"I'm out!" Selphie moaned. "We need heavy firepower, like a rocket launcher or C7, or _something_! Something big and powerful!" Zell agreed, but what could they use? He looked around quickly, frantically, for anything. He spotted the fallen corpses of some of the Galbadians they had killed earlier . . . .

And then Zell noticed the grenades on a nearby soldier's belt.

"Selphie, distract it!" Zell shouted as he bent down next to the corpse and checked the soldier's belt. He spotted a pair of M19 explosive incendiary grenades, and grabbed them. "Get its attention!" She nodded and immediately loosed a burst of fire spell upon the war machine, the flames scorching outer armor but barely damaging the armored weapon. It turned its attention towards her for a second, allowing Squall to get in another slash into its "face." It stabbed down with a pincher at him, but Squall hopped back away from the attack, concrete cracking under the impact.

Even as Squall moved back, Zell leapt forward, hooking his thumbs under the pins of the grenades and popping them free.

_"Get back!" _Zell shouted as he ducked under the pinchers and came right up in front of the machine's "face." His hands shot out, dropping the grenades through the gaps in the machine's grille. Wasting no time, the martial artist leaped up and kicked off the top of the machine's "head," his superhuman strength hurling him up and back into a somersaulting leap.

Then the grenades detonated.

X-ATM092 was practically blown onto its back by the explosions, its front end lifting up with the force of the detonations as chunks of its "face" scattered through the air. The weapon's front dropped back down, slamming down onto the bridge and laying still, its entire front section ablaze.

_"Oh yeah, baby!" _Zell shouted, pumping his fists triumphantly at the dead hunk of metal in front of him. "You like that, huh! Huh! Who is the fucking _man?_" Selphie joined him in a victory cheer against the implacable machine. Squall, meanwhile, wasn't as thrilled, his mind more focused on the evacuation. He glanced at his watch, then tapped Zell on the shoulder.

"Twelve minutes," he alerted them, and the others stopped cheering, remembering the gravity of the situation.

"Time to haul ass," Zell remarked.

Squall couldn't have agreed more.

* * *

Other nations often cursed the Galbadian weapon engineers for their resourcefulness. It wasn't uncommon for a military force to encounter a Galbadian weapon, then meet up with a similar one a short time later and find it armed with completely new and completely unexpected weaponry or equipment. X-ATM092 was no exception, employing not one, not two, but _three_ redundant power cores and _four_ separate internal AI processors. What resulted from this internal redundancy was the fact that the weapon could not be destroyed unless everything was eliminated before the AI cores could repair them. Needless to say, doing so was a difficult task in and of itself. 

So, while Zell's daring grenade tactic had succeeded in disabling the forward sensors, one power core, and two AI cores, and had knocked out the DH-22 Ray Bomb cannon, it was little more than an inconvenience to the machine.

The repair robots issued forth once more and rapidly worked over the machine's blasted front. Within only a few minutes the front end had been mostly repaired and the forward sensors were reconstructed. The repair robots didn't have time to perfect the repairs, but they got the machine's sensors and forward equipment, particularly the DH-22 Ray Bomb, operating once more. Though its "face" was battered and charred, it was functional and more than ready to continue the pursuit.

Five minutes after Zell had blasted X-ATM092, it was back up on its feet and hot on the trail of its prey.

* * *

Dollet's streets were as empty now as they had been before, and Squall, Zell, and Selphie hurried through them, knowing they didn't have much time to get to the beach. The tall buildings loomed up overhead like the rock walls of the mountain trails had minutes ago. 

"Seven minutes!" Squall warned them as the saw the Central Square ahead. They should be able to take the side road from the Square that lead to Lapin Beach and get there in under four minutes if they continued with the flat-out run.

Then, the _impossible_ happened.

Thunderous metallic clanging sounded down the street behind them.

As one, the cadets spun around, and saw X-ATM092 charging down the street, still bent on its singular purpose, its hull battered and burned, but the blood red sensor still locked onto them.

"That . . . _no way!_" Zell shouted in shocked confusion. "That's impossible! Its supposed to be dead!"

"Go!" Squall shouted, spinning back towards the Central Square. They _couldn't_ afford another battle like the last one. "Go! Go!" The cadets took off and charged down the street, the machine hot on their heels, and Squall looked back over his shoulder to see the machine closing. Despite their GF-enhanced strength, the Black Widow was faster than them on the straight, narrow streets. They wouldn't be able to escape it.

And in their current condition, wounded, tired, incapable of summoning Guardian Forces in heated combat, and with little or no electrical magic remaining between them, Squall doubted that the others could survive another encounter with that thing.

He then made a dangerous decision.

As the cadets entered the Central Square, Squall spun around next to the fountain and focused, closing his eyes tightly and reaching into his mind and touching the GFs there.

"Squall!" Selphie shouted, noticing he'd stopped.

"What the hell are you doing?" Zell also called, not understanding his sudden stop.

"Get out of here," Squall responded quietly, barely audible over the sound of the metallic clanging as X-ATM092 neared the Square. "I'll hold it."

"But-!" Selphie began, but Zell only nodded and grabbed her by the shoulder, understanding Squall's sudden and selfless choice.

"We got to move!" he replied, and ran down the street towards the beach. "We don't want to be here when that thing arrives!" Selphie hesitated, then turned and ran as well. Zell dashed as fast as he could, knowing Squall's intentions, and refusing to let them be in vain.

Moments later, X-ATM092 stomped into the Central Square, spotting the lone enemy. It took a step towards Squall, but then paused, realizing its target was summoning a GF again. Its legs spread outward, and the turbines pumped once more, and the DH-22 Ray Bomb charged up. Its killing power was diminished, but far from completely spent.

Then Squall opened his eyes, his summoning complete.

The skies above Dollet, or rather, just above the Square, suddenly sported ominous, spiraling storm clouds. Ran began to pour down upon the Central Square, and then, from the center of the spiraling clouds, a single mighty lightning bolt struck the ground. But, instead of scoring the concrete pavement, from the impact point rose a spinning whirlwind of sparking electricity, within which was a majestic golden entity.

It took on the form of a mighty yellow bird as it continued spinning, rising up and growing bigger, crackling blue electricity running along its length as if demanding to be released. Within an instant, the creature had fully manifested, a great featherless and faceless bird with black markings across its body. Its neck and head resembled that of a serpent's, but without eyes or mouth. In fact, the whole body was smooth and golden, with many white lights playing across its surface as it hovered in the air for an instant.

Quetzacotl looked down on its foe, and then the lightning Guardian Force's head snapped forward, seeming to spew lightning from where the mouth would have been on a snake. The lightning swiftly surrounded X- ATM092, then began to form a dome of electrical energy around the weapon, high above the ground. From the apex of this dome, a single brilliant bolt of energy lanced down, striking the weapon dead center and sending tremendous amounts of electricity throughout the machine. Components exploded, the turbines blew apart, and within an instant, X-ATM092 was down once more, this time at Quetzacotl's hands.

Its duty done, the Guardian Force faded away, and Squall retreated from the Square. Both instinct and common sense told him that the Black Widow was still alive, even in the face of Quetzacotl's fury.

He was right, for even as he had exited the Square, X-ATM092 was back on its feet and continuing the pursuit. It crashed through the archway over the street Squall ran down, plowing under a car parked nearby and charging on.

Squall knew he couldn't outrun his pursuer, so he opted instead to evade it. The cadet ducked down a side alley, X-ATM092 in hot pursuit. The weapon, not an advocate of subtlety and not able to fit its bulk between the buildings, opted to smash right through the walls. A tremendous crashing sound, like a battalion of wrecking crews had been let loose behind him, alerted Squall to X-ATM092's straightforward approach.

Putting on more speed, the cadet glanced back to see the spider machine smashing through the brick walls on either side of the alley, tearing apart metal support and concrete, with multiple tons of construction falling down on top of it as it advanced. Still, the weapon was slowed somewhat by the intervening walls, giving Squall the chance to pull away and reach the far end of the alley. He exited the alley on another street, and quickly bolted down the road, hoping to find another alleyway to continue the evasion in.

Meanwhile, X-ATM092 had finished transforming the alleyway into another large Dollet street and burst free, taking sizable chunks of the buildings that had stood in its way on either side with it. It spun around, scanning for its target and analyzing the maps of this section of Dollet for any hiding spots usable by its prey.

The weapon spotted Squall as he ducked into another alley, and the chase was on anew.

Squall sped down the alley, aware of the all-too-familiar crashing the machine made as it was walking. However, rather than coming from behind him, at the entrance to the alley, the sound was coming from beside him . . .

Then, more tremendous smashing and crunching accompanied the metal clanging, and suddenly Squall realized that the weapon wasn't chasing him through the alley, it was smashing straight through the buildings to get at him!

X-ATM092 exploded out of the wall directly behind Squall, bricks and other random objects flying as it came to a stop and brought its pinchers up for the kill. The cadet rolled away desperately, evading the pinchers by mere inches and running flat out for the far end of the alleyway. The weapon was right behind him, slowed again by the intervening walls but still continuing the dogged pursuit.

Squall burst free of the alley again and ran flat out for the end of the street. At the far end, just beyond the archway marking the end of the road, Squall could see Lapin Beach and the waiting SeeD Salamanders.

X-ATM092 had little use for windows, but in that instant, as it was smashing through the alley's walls, it spotted Squall through one of the windows of the building on its left, fleeing as hard as he could down the road. Rather than continue the process of bursting through the alleyway, X- ATM092 instead simply turned, recalling its maps. It recognized that this road gently curved, meaning that if it went along a straight path while its prey took the road, it could intercept its target. The only thing standing in the machine's way were the buildings, after all.

The cadet continued sprinting, leaping over the broken and cloven bodies of the soldiers that Bravo Squad had killed outside the tavern less than two hours ago, retracing his steps toward the landing zone at the beach. Somewhere to his left, Squall could hear the sound of crashing and brick walls collapsing. He turned to look that way, but now the sound was no longer beside him, it was _behind_-

-and X-ATM092 smashed through the buildings behind Squall, hurling debris and a nearby car across the street and charging after the fleeing cadet, with all its horrible, unstoppable fury.

* * *

"Instructor!" Zell shouted as he ran across the beach, Selphie right behind him. Quistis was standing by their Salamander, the last one that had not picked up its cadets. Xu was also nearby, waiting for the rest of Bravo Squad to return. 

"Zell!" Quistis called, looking over his shoulder. Aside from one member of Alpha Squad, no one else was with him. "Squall! Where is he?"

"Behind us!" Zell shouted. "There's some kind of Galbadian weapon chasing him, and-" Metallic crashing from the direction of the street caught everyone's attention, and they spun in that direction in time to see X-ATM092 crash right through the archway, hurling debris out over the sand and then standing at the top of the street, overlooking Lapin Beach. Its bloody sensor swept the beach, and marked targets as the debris crashed amidst the sand.

Among that debris was a human, Squall, who landed on his stomach. He began struggling to get up, and the huge weapon turned its red gaze down on him, locating its prey once more.

"Squall!" Selphie yelled, her shout echoed by Zell and Xu a moment later. The brawler turned to Quistis.

"Instructor!" Zell shouted, turning to Quistis. "We've got to . . . ."

But Quistis wasn't there.

* * *

_Get up and run, Leonhart! _Squall mentally screamed to himself as he stood up. Behind and overhead, X-ATM092 took a step forward, setting one of its clawed feet on the staircase leading down from the street to the beach. The staircase didn't support the monstrous machine's weight, and X-ATM092 suddenly lost balance and went toppling right over the edge of the street to crash into the sands below. 

By that time, Squall was up and hurling himself across the beach, running with every once of strength his Guardian Forces could give him. He hurried across the sands, spotting Zell, Selphie, and Xu up ahead. Zell was pumping his fists and waving his arms in the universal "hurry up" fashion, while the other two stood intently, watching and calling for him.

As Squall's boots tossed up sand, X-ATM092 stood back up, surprised by the failure of the stairs to support it. It turned its attention to Squall, locked him in, and charged.

Squall's movements across the beach were quick, but the spider machine's were even faster. It closed the gap between itself and the cadet, pinchers ready to stab out and grab or impale him.

Squall put every last ounce of his strength into running faster. The vessel's open doors were only about fifteen feet away, but the machine was an equal distance behind and approaching much more quickly.

He wouldn't make it!

"No!" Squall denied, his leg muscles tensing. He put everything into one final, desperate lunge for the open doors. Squall leaped, his supernatural strength hurling him across the fifteen-foot distance, a length no man could normally cover. It didn't seem Squall would either, for the machine was directly behind him, pinchers ready to knock him out of the air halfway through his flight.

Then, a new and unbelievably welcome sound assaulted Squall's ears: that of the Salamander's high-powered, high-caliber machinegun opening fire. He looked up, just in time to catch a bit of blonde hair on the gunner. Quistis!

Quistis held the trigger down and held the weapon steady, the bullets from her .50 caliber machinegun ripping through the Galbadian weapon's heavy armor. The sheer force behind the bullets kept pushing it back, kept it from stabbing down with its pinchers into Squall's body, and the incendiary explosive rounds smashed armor and electronics. He sailed safely through the open doors, colliding with the metal decking. Inside, Xu screamed for the pilot to pull away, and the SeeD gunned the engines, but X-ATM092 was still out there, and its unstoppable fury would not be halted.

No longer was the machine aiming for Squall. Instead, it tried to stop the vessel from escaping. Its legs rose up, trying to stab down into the vessel's hull and hold it fast. To let it fire another Ray Bomb into the Salamander. But Quistis kept firing, her bullets forcing X-ATM092 back. Hundreds of holes now dotted the machine's outer body, the metal slugs tearing apart electronics and ripping through power cores. Shrapnel tore through sensitive components, and power cores were broken under the barrage. The AI computers began issuing repair orders even as the weapon made its final lunge, but then they fell silent, and the weapon stopped thinking, as Quistis's bullets tore apart the computers. The weapon's interior quickly came to resemble shredded cheese as more bullets stuck it, and continued to hit it even as it fell down. Smoke issued forth from the dying machine's shredded corpse, and fires erupted within.

Moments later, the vessel pulled away, and as Quistis watched, X- ATM092 detonated, the explosion hurling chunks and components out over the ocean.

Inside, Squall sat back against a bulkhead, and inhaled, feeling as if he hadn't breathed at all since the Central Square. Selphie, Zell, and Xu, also inside, let out their own held breaths.

"Heh," a voice called, and Squall looked up to see Seifer, seated in the same spot where he'd been during the briefing, his feet propped up on the table and boredom apparent on his face. He looked almost as if he'd never left his spot in the whole Dollet battle.

"Squall," Seifer asked, smiling. He cocked his head to the side, as if surprised at something.

"What took you so long?"

* * *

-

* * *

This chapter marks a first in _Gunblade: Reload_: a chapter where I did not rewrite the entire chapter, but simply went back over the original and made a large number of very small edits. "Run away!" was originally one of my favorite chapters in the original _Gunblade_, and when I went back over it I realized I would have a hard time recapturing the desperation and fast-paced nature of the original chapter if I completely rewrote it...at least not without putting a tremendous amount of effort into the chapter. Since the original was very satisfying in my eyes, I decided that rewriting it would be unnecessary, and thus I simply copy-edited it and did some alterations throughout to improve word flow and sentence structure. Let me know what you think! 

Also, an additional concern that was brought up in a recent review that I feel the need to address, in regards to description. In this story, as with the original _Gunblade_, I'm writing as if I was writing for people who have never played the game. There were numerous instances while writing the original story when people would tell me that they had shown the story to people who had never played FFVIII, and they fully understood what the story was about. I'm writing for _them_ as much as I'm writing for people who have played the game. This is _not_ going to change with _Reload._

A recent review made note of jumping distance while junctioned, comparing Seifer's commentary in the last chapter about a "100 meter" jump and Squall's much shorter fifteen foot leap this chapter. In the previous chapter, Seifer was simply joking and poking fun at Zell's worrisome nature, while in this chapter Squall was making an actual leap using his junction-enhanced body. I apologize for any confusion.

Until next chapter . . . .


	8. Chapter VII: Inauguration

_**Chapter VII: Inauguration**_

The trip back to Balamb was, thankfully, uneventful. The cadets and SeeDs rode in silence, glad for the quiet reprieve, and all were tired and exhausted, excepting Seifer. Zell and Selphie were in good cheer, while Squall remained in his seat for the entire trip, head resting against the bulkhead, letting the adrenaline flow out of his body. His hands were shaking, and not entirely from the sudden decrease in chemicals in his blood: he'd come brutally close to death out there today, multiple times, and that fact was slowly catching up with him.

"We're coming into Balamb Harbor now," came a call over the intercom, and Squall looked up, and then down at himself. His uniform was caked in dried blood, some of it his own, but much more of it his enemies'. He looked, and felt, as if he'd gone through exactly what he'd just survived.

"Hey, Squall," Seifer suddenly remarked, and the cadet looked up at his squad's leader. The other cadet flashed him a rare grin, and nodded.

"Good job out there," he said simply, and started to stand up, slinging his M4 as the Salamander came to a stop. The rear door hissed open, and the squad leader strode outside, with Zell and Selphie standing up quickly as well. The smaller cadet was bouncing with energy, as if the desperate run to the beach had done nothing to sap her spirits. Squall slowly rose, his entire body aching as he did so, and he gathered up his gear. Wearily, the cadet stepped out of the cramped confines of the Salamander and out into the warm sea breeze of Balamb Harbor, the wind uncorrupted by the violence of war.

"Seifer!" came a call from the parking lot at the far end of the harbor, and Squall could see Seifer's comrades, Fujin and Raijin, waiting for him. They started toward the dock where the squad's Salamander was briefly moored, even as Quistis and Xu climbed off, and the pilot started the transport's engines once more.

"How'd it go, man?" Raijin asked as the pair approached Seifer. The Squad leader grinned and shrugged.

"All they did was get in my way, guys," he responded with a smirk. "Being a leader ain't easy."

"Heard that, ya know!" Raijin added, and Fujin nodded quietly. Behind Seifer, Zell clenched his fists, fury stretching across his face, and Quistis slowly shook her head while Xu calmly wrote something down on her personal palm pilot.

"Pompous asshole," Zell grunted under his breath.

"Safe?" Fujin asked, and Seifer scoffed at the notion that he could possibly have been injured.

"Come on, we've got some booze to drink, eh?" Seifer added as he walked past his comrades, and the other two cadets followed the arrogant squad leader.

"Good job," Quistis called from behind the remaining squad members, who turned to face her. "Your squad did very well judging by the initial reports, though Seifer did deviate from the battle plan." She shook her head. "Well, at least no one was killed for his stupidity. We'll be collating information based on everyone's performance and then announce the exam results at about 2000 hours. Until then you're all free to go. Dismissed." With a smile at Squall and a nod to the rest of the squad, Quistis stepped past them and started up the docks, toward the line of parked SFVs. As she left, Selphie stretched her arms above her head.

"Phew," the tiny cadet sighed tiredly. "I'm beat. Wanna head back to Garden, get something to eat?"

"Food," Zell added with a nod and a grin. "Hot food. And I know a great place we can go for it, too!" Squall nodded his assent, and as Selphie and Zell started toward one of the remaining vehicles, he unconsciously followed them, before realizing what he was doing.

_I thought I was supposed to rely on myself out there,_ he thought, and then shook his head. SeeDs were supposed to work together, using their individual skills to complement the group as a whole. If they had all fought like Seifer, then that thing atop the communications tower would have torn them apart, and he X-ATM092 would have buried them in their first encounter.

_Combat is temporary,_ he reminded himself as he climbed into the back seat of one of the SFVs, Zell and Selphie laughing as they climbed into the front. _Fight and operate with others out of necessity for survival. But outside of battle . . . ._

The SFV jerked and started forward, with Selphie behind the wheel. It swerved around wildly, Zell letting out a shout of surprise. Squall frowned and slid on a seatbelt as Selphie turned the vehicle toward the road leading out of the dock and bolted ahead.

"Are you nuts?" Zell shouted, and Selphie's almost maniacal laughter resounded in his ears.

"Top-rated driver at Trabia Garden," she replied, smiling wildly as they careened through the Balamb streets. In the back of the SFV, Squall settled back into the thinly padded seat, and peered out the window, remaining silent.

_Squadmates, not friends. People are people, and everyone follows their own path. I don't need friends who will betray me, who'll disappear someday._

_Like Sis . . . ._

* * *

Cid sighed as he looked over the report from the battlefield, the light from the vast windows of his office reflecting off his computer screen. Losses among the friendly Dollet troops had been high, especially from around the main road into the city, where SeeD reinforcements had to be diverted from supporting the soldiers to fighting off another group of Galbadians that had come from what was supposed to be a secured sector. That unsecured sector, the Central Square, was left that way because of Seifer Almasy's actions, and for that, Dollet's Parliament was _fuming_. 

"Our best and our worst," Cid muttered, looking over the report on Seifer's actions. Apparently, he had spotted a group of Galbadians moving through the area and had ordered his squad to leave their post to pursue. However, he had done this without even attempting to get authorization from the mission commander, and had apparently only followed the Galbadians out of boredom, not tactical or strategic interest.

Despite the brashness of his actions, Seifer and Bravo Squad had located the Galbadians repairing the Dollet Comms Tower, which was rather unusual. The Galbadians had been quietly asking Dollet to repair the tower over the last few months, but the Dukedom had refused, instead stating that there was no need with HD cable communication - not to mention that the Dukedom had a history of balking to any Galbadian demands, especially considering the enmity between the two nations.

No one had expected the Galbadians were _this_ serious about repairing the tower, but it was done, even if Galbadia had been forced out of the city for now. It could have been a more permanent drive if Dollet's Parliament had offered more money for the SeeD intervention; as it was, Garden had only received enough payment for them to come in and assist in a counterattack, and not enough gil had been offered for a long-term deployment to force Galbadia out.

Though Dollet's Parliament had been loathe to turn over the rest of the payment, considering Seifer's irresponsible actions. The Duke himself had been complaining about how much they had to pay for mercenaries who didn't even do their jobs. It was bad enough that they were paying nine-digit figures of gil for less than two-dozen soldiers, but it seemed some of those soldiers couldn't even be relied on.

Seifer's actions had indeed revealed Galbadia's true intent with the attack, but a what cost to Garden? Would Dollet ever trust SeeD and Garden again?

"Seifer . . ." Cid muttered quietly, shaking his head. That boy had been nothing but headaches throughout his whole time at Garden. He wondered if this was the incident that would finally provoke an expulsion. Expulsion had never been used on a cadet or SeeD who misbehaved in combat before, but then, neither a SeeD nor a cadet had ever so blatantly disregarded orders like Seifer.

There were so many issues . . . .

Cid sighed and returned to reviewing the reports. If Seifer's actions had been irresponsible and insubordinate, then those of his team had been perfect. Zell Dincht and Squall Leonhart had shown sufficient tendencies towards obeying orders. Despite Dincht's protests, he had obeyed his captain's decision to go after the Galbadians, as had Leonhart. And both cadets had shown excellent combat skills, taking down numerous Galbadian soldiers in multiple engagements.

But, it was immediately afterward that the two had come into their own, as had Selphie Tilmitt, the messenger from Alpha Squad. In the battle at the top of the tower, the report said, the trio had shown remarkable teamwork and skills, and Leonhart had turned out to be quite the leader, formulating battle plans on the fly and using each member of his impromptu squad to their best abilities, even taking advantage of Seifer's independent actions.

Then there was the escape from Dollet with the Galbadian weapon in hot pursuit. Throughout that pursuit, the trio of cadets had shown skill, judgment, and teamwork, bringing down the spider machine repeated times. Tilmitt's supportive actions with magic and Dincht's daring and brilliant maneuver with the grenades had both shown the necessary requirements for being a SeeD.

And then there were Leonhart's own actions, including his selfless and brave act of holding off the machine and drawing it after himself, allowing his injured and spent comrades time to escape and alert Quistis so she could bring the weapon down. That kind of act was uncommon, even among the inducted SeeDs.

All three cadets had shown they belonged in SeeD. Cid Kramer entered their names and ID numbers into the "Approved" list on his computer, and then began to move to the next set of reports, from Delta Squad, just after highlighting Seifer's name for disciplinary action.

* * *

When Zell had mentioned a place to get food, Squall had expected a restaurant. He was surprised when Selphie stopped the SFV at one of the semi-submerged houses in Balamb's residential district - specifically, _Zell's_ house. 

"Ma!" Zell shouted as he stepped through the door leading down into his house. "I'm home!" Squall and Selphie were right behind him, and as they came inside they were struck by the wonderful aromas coming from the kitchen.

The Dincht household was like many of Balamb's residential buildings, which had been built like apartments as one long, low line of dwellings running down the length of the street. Essentially, each Balamb house was part of the same structure, just divided off into separate homes for separate families. The actual floor of the homes was a little below the level of the streets outside, almost giving the one the impression of descending into a burrow when one went down the steps leading inside. Despite being partially underground, the Balamb houses were far from dark, being well-lit by high windows, and featuring second story bedrooms.

Squall entered the first room of the house, the main den and entry hall. The room was tidy and clean, as expected when a woman ran the place. Squall could see various knick-knacks and a few electronics scattered around the mid-sized room, and a nice throw rug covered the floor. The whole room was of a dark beige color, that of the stone it was made out of, but the color actually gave the room a cozy effect. There were several archways leading out of the room, one to a living room directly across from the entrance, a second leading to a set of stairs that went up to the bedrooms, and a third that Zell was disappearing through, and where the aromas emerged from, doubtless the kitchen where Mama Dincht was cooking.

"Zell!" a heavyset woman happily in the kitchen as Zell pulled her into a hug. "What a surprise!" She glanced over her son's shoulder to see Squall and Selphie, the latter also entering the kitchen, being drawn in by the wonderful smell of whatever was being prepared on the stove. "Are these your friends?"

"Kinda," Zell said with a nod. "We ended up working together today."

"Oh, you're not off today?" Mama Dincht asked as she resumed her cooking.

"Nah, outdoor class," Zell replied. "Hopefully the last one!"

"Oh the exam!" Mama Dincht exclaimed. "I heard about it! Tell me, how did you all do?

* * *

The cadets stayed at the Dincht house for about an hour as Zell and Selphie recounted their parts in the battle over some of Mama Dincht's cooking. Squall listened mostly, and ate some, equally impressed by Ma Dincht's homemade meals. 

_Wow_, he thought as he listened to Selphie tell of how she had tracked down Bravo Squad, frantically following the trail of bodies leading up into the mountains.

_I haven't had food like this since . . . ._

That brought a pause to Squall's thoughts.

Since when did he have this kind of homemade food? He definitely recalled eating food somewhere, but when? It wasn't in recent memory, and he certainly hadn't eaten any food prepared by his parents. Like many other Garden cadets, Squall was an orphan, and he had been in the Garden since being only five years old. And in all that time, he'd mostly eaten food from the cafeteria. Yet he distinctly recalled eating homemade food long ago . . . but when?

Squall shook off the question. It didn't really matter now.

"Don't we need to get back to Garden soon?" Selphie asked as she finished her part of the story. Squall glanced at his watch, and nodded.

"It's at least half an hour's drive back," he replied, standing up from his chair. "We'll need to leave soon if we want to make it back by sundown."

"Leaving so soon?" Ma Dincht asked, shaking her head. "I hate to see Zell's friends leave so soon after meeting them. You kids take care, alright?"

"Hey, no problem, Ma!" Zell said with a grin.

"Yeah!" Selphie agreed. "And thanks for the food! It was great!" Squall said nothing, only nodding in agreement with Selphie's compliment and then heading back out towards the door.

* * *

"Expulsion?" Xu exclaimed in surprise at Cid's suggestion. 

"Well, what else can we do?" Cid replied, shaking his head and leaning back in his chair. "Seifer's actions were not only in direct violation of his orders, but he also endangered his squadron and other SeeD forces, and also damaged our credibility with Dollet's Parliament. And do you see any possibility of him changing?"

"Not much," Xu replied, sighing. "But I would have thought the last two missions would have sunk in by now."

"He's independent. A loose cannon, so to speak," Cid added, coming forward and resting his elbows on his desk. "All he cares about is fighting and gaining glory. That is not what SeeD is about. We're professional soldiers, not wild dogs of war. Seifer doesn't seem to be able to grasp this. It seems like he will never be capable of working in a unit, and if he can't work with his team, then why should we continue training him?"

"He might turn around," Xu replied. "He could learn from his mistakes if we properly discipline and retrain him." She didn't like Seifer, but she knew the implications of him being expelled. Cid wasn't on NORG's good side right now, and the Garden's Master had high hopes for Seifer. To tell the truth, she was more concerned for whether this would drive a deeper wedge between the Headmaster and the Garden Master.

"We aren't equipped with the facilities to retrain him," Cid said, shaking his head. "We've never had the need for classes or instruction in this, because most of our students are already properly trained to work as a team by the time of their exams. Seifer, though . . . We'd need a military style boot camp to get him into shape, and Balamb Garden does not have that capability." Cid shook his head once more.

A long silence permeated the office. Finally, Xu broke the quiet.

"There's no choice then," she said, nodding reluctantly. "Expulsion."

"I'll get to work on the paperwork," Cid said. "I'll have to run this by NORG before we can finalize it."

"He won't be happy," Xu warned. "Seifer's the best we've got, even better than Squall. NORG's not going to enjoy losing such a potential money- maker."

"Of course not," Cid replied. "But I'd rather have NORG upset at losing revenue than a dead squad or no future contracts. He has to go."

* * *

"Finally made it back," Zell said as they moved through the Garden grounds. 

"Seriously," Selphie added, stretching her arms and legs again. The ride in the SFV had cramped her already tired muscles. Zell and Squall followed her as they moved through the front gates of Balamb Garden. The sun was setting in the mountains to the west of the Garden, and the area was darkening, the automatic lights starting to slowly come on.

"Its 1930," Zell added, checking his watch. "Guess that means we've got half an hour before they announce the results."

"Okay," Selphie said with a cheery smile. "See you guys there!" She bounded off into the Garden, and Zell followed suit, with a grin toward Squall as well. Squall nodded at them and waited for the pair to pass out of sight before he, too, entered Garden.

Normally, he path leading up to the entrance to the central structure of Garden had at least a few cadets, but now, at sunset, this area was unusually peaceful and quiet. Combined with the lush plants and outside waterfalls and pools reflecting the yellow and orange in the western sky, the outer grounds were beautiful, the epitome of Garden's own name. Squall took his time heading in, basking in the peace, stretching out his tired and sore muscles. That last run from the machine had taken its toll on his body, junctions or not.

His peaceful walk through the Garden's exterior ended all too soon, and Squall passed under the Garden's decorated archway. The interior of the building was filled with the all too typical bustle of cadets and SeeDs moving around, many of them recounting the operation they had just survived. Squall ambled past a trio of cadets from Echo Squad, who were discussing the strange behavior of the Galbadian Army, particularly with their repairing of the communications tower. Ever since the global signal interference had started seventeen years ago, at the end of the Sorceress War, radio communications had been useless, though with improved Galbadian power generators, the tower might have the ability to cut through the interference.

That didn't really matter much to Squall at that moment, as he had spotted Quistis standing near the directory in front of the elevators, chatting with Xu and Headmaster Kramer. Still savoring the comparative moment of silence, Squall began to step around the group rather than catch their attention.

" . . . all of our cadets are safe, and the Galbadians have pulled out completely from Dollet," added Cid with a shrug. Xu frowned as Squall passed.

"So, they were just after the radio tower after all. Well, at least the Gallies are out of there . . . Oh, hey, there he is now! Squall!"

Squall frowned and glanced over at the group. He didn't _want_ to talk with the officers, but it would be bad form to just ignore Xu and Cid.

"Squall, you did pretty good out there!" Xu added, and Quistis nodded.

"He is my best student, after all," the Instructor commented, and smiled at Squall again.

Squall, for his part, simply shrugged and stayed silent.

"Not very social, though," Quistis added with a half-frown. "If you're waiting for the exam results, they should be announced soon. Just wait around here like everyone else." Squall nodded and began to walk past the trio, looking for some secluded spot where he could wait without the annoyance of having to talk to anyone.

Apparently, the Headmaster had different intentions, since he nodded to his two subordinates and stepped over to Squall as he began walking away. The older man tapped the cadet on the shoulder, catching his attention.

"Tell me," Cid asked, smiling. "How did it feel to be out there on the battlefield?" Squall considered that question for a second, and also what it meant. Cid might be testing him, seeing how he thought he'd done and his attitude towards the battle and his job. The old man was a clever one.

To tell the truth, his first battle had not been the frightening thing other cadets spoke of. Perhaps it was merely that Squall was better conditioned or more determined. Few cadets ever truly experienced their first real life-or-death battle before the exam, and it was often a wake-up call for them. Squall, on the other hand, was well-conditioned and had prepared himself for the Exam. When the enemy had come, he had never frozen up or hesitated. They were the enemy, and they were trying to kill him and his comrades; he acted accordingly.

Cid was still waiting for an answer, so Squall gave him the one that really described his feelings toward the battle in Dollet.

". . . whatever," Squall said, and continued past Cid. The Headmaster watched him go, considering Squall's response.

"'Whatever'?" he said thoughtfully. Them the old man smiled. "'Whatever'! That's great! 'Whatever'!"

As Squall continued to walk away from the group around the directory, he found a spot along the walkway where he thought he could be alone and undisturbed. He stopped and leaned against the railing, closing his eyes and relaxing, enjoying the silence.

"Hey, Squall!" called the familiar voice of Seifer, breaking the silence. His eyes snapped open and he looked over to his self-styled rival as the white-coated cadet approached, a wide smile on his face.

"Did you hear about the tower?" Seifer asked, holding his hands out wide. "After we figured out what the Gallies were after, the Dukedom negotiated a settlement with them! The Galbadians withdrew as long as Dollet promised to keep the tower operational. If it weren't for that withdraw order, Dollet wouldn't have even need to settle with Galbadia. We would have been heroes!"

"You were only looking for a fight," Quistis accused Seifer from behind his shoulder. The squad leader turned towards his instructor, a mockingly hurt expression on his face as he regarded her and Xu, both approaching.

"My _dear_ instructor," Seifer said, his voice also dripping with sarcastic hurt. "Those are rather cruel words for an aspiring student." He smiled, his hurt expression turning somewhat harder. A sneer appeared on his face. "A _mediocre_ instructor like you would never understand."

Even Squall was shocked by the condescending insult; Seifer was toeing the line between rugged individuality and blatant insubordination. Quistis's expression turned to amazement, while Xu's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Don't be so stuck on yourself," the SeeD officer snapped sharply. "You'll take all responsibility for leaving the designated area and jeopardizing the operation." Seifer shrugged in response, still sneering.

"Isn't it the squad leader's duty to make the best possible decision in combat?" he questioned. Xu crossed her arms and leaned forward, staring Seifer dead in the eye.

"You'll never be a SeeD," Xu told him with all seriousness. It seemed almost like she knew beyond a doubt Seifer would not pass. "Calling yourself a leader is a joke." Xu's words were spoken with conviction, and were as hard as steel. Seifer had been told off before, but Xu's words were the most blunt, direct, and rude he'd ever heard. His eyes narrowed, and his jaw clenched tightly. His hands balled into fists and trembled in anger as he turned his gaze down to the floor; he knew that Xu wouldn't put up with his sneering responses like Quistis.

Xu was apparently satisfied with the brief but blunt deflation of Seifer's limitless ego, and turned around to walk off. Quistis was about to follow, but hesitated as Cid Kramer walked towards the group. He nodded at Xu as she passed, then stopped next to Quistis. They spoke for a moment, then she nodded, gave a formal military bow, and walked after Xu. Then the Headmaster turned back to Seifer, a sad expression on his face.

"Seifer," he called, getting the cadet's attention. Seifer looked up at Cid, who watched him for a moment, then shook his head.

"You will be disciplined for your irresponsible behavior," Cid began. "You _must _follow orders during combat." Cid paused, scratching the back of his head. "Though I'm not entirely without sympathy for you. I don't want you all to become mindless killing machines. I want you to be able to think and act for yourselves. I am . . . ."

Cid trailed off as one of the red-robed Faculty approached.

"Headmaster," he began. "You have some business in your office. And NORG would like to speak with you after the ranking ceremony." Cid sighed and nodded.

"Very well," he replied. Cid looked back up at Seifer. "There . . . There are many issues at hand here. I am sorry Seifer. Disciplinary actions will be taken." With that, the Headmaster turned and walked towards the elevators, leaving Seifer alone in silence and anger.

"Dammit . . ." he hissed under his breath. He clenched his fists, hands shaking in anger. "I'm not going to forget this, Xu." Seifer glanced up at Squall, but said nothing, and stalked off.

* * *

The results from the exam, it turned out, were not announced by the directory, but instead the students were told to wait in the second floor hallway ringing the Garden's upper classroom level. 

"Sup?" Zell greeted as Squall arrived. The martial artist was pacing anxiously, while the other cadets were milling around, quietly talking to themselves or pacing about much like Zell.

Squall glanced around, seeing almost all of the cadets who had taken the exam, plus Fujin and Raijin; the two other members of Seifer's posse were also waiting for something. The unusual brother and sister pair stood impassively by one of the archways, the taller Raijin seeming bored, while Fujin looking more focused and angry. Her one eye seemed to radiate hostility, which was directed mostly at Squall.

"What are they doing?" Squall asked to Zell, who shrugged.

"Hell if I know," the martial artist replied. "The faculty said they're gonna announce the grades one by one. Selphie already went, and so did some other guy from Delta. Wonder what the hell's takin' 'em so long. Hell, I haven't seen Seifer anywhere, either."

Squall shrugged at that, and then glanced over to where Fujin and Raijin were standing. Fujin still stood impassively, while Raijin had opted instead to walk around, still looking bored. Squall could see Fujin's one visible eye glaring his way, as if she were trying to cut him down with her gaze. Raijin, whose pacing brought him close to Squall, noticed the two looking at each other.

"Heh," Raijin said quietly to Squall, leaning over. "Fujin was sayin' that it'd be all your fault if Seifer didn't become a SeeD." He glanced back over to his sister, who still glared at the taciturn cadet. "Man, she can be pretty scary, ya know!"

Squall shrugged the warning aside, and just as easily shrugged off Fujin's glare as he took up an unoccupied spot on the wall, far from everyone else, and waited.

It turned out he didn't need to wait long. Within a couple of minutes, one of the robed Faculty approached, a sheet of paper in one of his sleeved hands. He cleared his throat, catching all the cadets' combined attentions and raised the sheet of paper. As his hand rose, Squall caught sight of yellowish fingers, slender and far longer than those of any ordinary person. It was odd, but nothing he hadn't noticed before; the robed Faculty did a good job hiding their nature, but every now and then something happened to make it obvious that they weren't human. He'd heard rumors of the Shumi peoples in northern Trabia, but of the robed Faculty were actually Shumis, Squall couldn't tell.

"Dincht," he announced in a monotone voice, as if ordering coffee. "Zell Dincht." The martial artist's response was immediate and likely could have been heard in Balamb.

"_Oooooyh yeah!"_ Zell shouted, pumping his fists into the air at the announcement. "See yah!" he called as he ran past the Faculty, toward the elevator beyond.

"Leonhart," the Faculty member continued, and Squall's heart jumped into his throat. He wasn't joking, was he? "Squall Leonhart."

No, the Faculty wasn't joking, and it took Squall a moment to realize he should be stepping past the Faculty. He could hear quiet congratulations from a few cadets as he moved past them and into the hallway. There were more announcements, but he couldn't hear them over the beating of his own heart as he approached the elevator, with a madly grinning Zell standing there, waiting for him.

_I'm a SeeD. I finally made SeeD._

* * *

Cid's office was expansive, Squall saw as he and Zell joined Selphie and the other cadets in the Garden's command center. The room was wide and open, with little furniture or knick-knacks cluttering the space. Instead, Cid had several display cases and tables set up on either side of the room, along with a few plush chairs and couches for people to sit in. The floor, surprisingly, was not carpeted, instead being made of polished marble, with many designs painted on it, and a red strip leading right to the Headmaster's desk. The desk was not the massive one a person would normally expect, but instead a modestly sized piece of furniture with a laptop and a small pile of papers and folders neatly placed on the opposite side. Cid himself sat in a large chair, almost like a throne, adorned with the Garden's white and black sigil, and also featured a pair of flags with the same sigil. Instead of a back wall, Cid had a single huge plate glass window that extended across the entire length of the office, and up high towards the vaulting ceiling above. The top of the room must have been a good twenty feet overhead, if not more. Several doors led out of the office, obviously leading to Cid's own quarters. 

Aside from the Headmaster himself, a group of high-ranking SeeDs, including Xu and Quistis, and a small group of Faculty stood by as witnesses to the ceremony. The cadets, nine in total, stepped up in a straight military line before Cid, as they had been directed by the Faculty, and saluted the Headmaster, before going to parade attention.

"These are the cadets that passed today's Exam," stated the highest-ranking Faculty among the group. "With the other three Exams this semester, the total number of SeeD graduates stands at forty-seven."

"First of all, congratulations," Cid began. "You honor this Garden with your induction. However, from now on, you are members of SeeD. As such, you will be dispatched all over the world for this Garden's benefit." Cid turned to the witnessing SeeDs and instructors.

"We are proud to introduce you to the newest members of SeeD, Balamb Garden's elite mercenary force," he said to them, gesturing to the nine cadets, before turning back to them.

"As SeeD soldiers," he addressed them, "you are combat specialists, the best the world has to offer. But, that is only one aspect of SeeD. When the time comes . . . ."

"Headmaster, it is almost time for the meeting, and NORG is waiting," the announcing Faculty broke in, stopping the Headmaster. "Please make this short." Cid sighed and nodded, and Squall glanced over at the Faculty out the corner of his eye. Cid's sigh, and also the way he had been interrupted downstairs seemed unusual, almost as if the Faculty were trying to keep Cid from babbling too much. Now that he thought of it, Squall knew he'd seen the Headmaster talking to cadets and SeeDs before, and every time he'd begun to say something about the meaning of SeeD, a member of the Faculty had intervened. He couldn't remember the exact instances, but he definitely recalled them. What were they trying to hide?

The Faculty member continued speaking during the silence.

"SeeD is a valuable asset to Garden," the Faculty said. "Its reputation is solely dependant on each of you. Handle your missions with care," he ended, turning back to Cid. "Is that what you wanted to say, Headmaster?" Cid sent a vexed glare at the Faculty, indicating that it obviously wasn't what he'd been intending to say, but the Headmaster said nothing as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black case. The Faculty noticed the movement and nodded.

"Stand and receive your Garden sigil," the Faculty finished as the Headmaster stepped toward the far end of the line, opposite Squall, and began handing out a series of collar insignia, marked with the Garden emblem of two white and black curved blades, pointing in opposite directions up and down.

Selphie was first. Cid approached her and opened the case, taking out one of the Garden insignia with a number on it, a sign of her rank. He handed it to the small cadet, and smiled.

"I'm looking forward to the Garden Festival," he told her quietly, to which she also smiled and nodded. then, Cid moved further down to one of the cadets in Delta Squad. He continued moving down the line to each new SeeD, giving them their insignia and a word of advice. Then, the headmaster stepped up to Zell, who was practically trembling in excitement, like a kid who needed to go to the bathroom really badly.

As Cid gave Zell the rank, he whispered some advice on controlling emotions, to which Zell reddened slightly, and nodded. As Cid approached Squall, Zell stood ramrod straight.

Cid stood before Squall, and opened the case, pulling out the Garden insignia.

"Finally," Cid whispered with a grin. "A gunblade specialist." He handed Squall the insignia, which he took in slightly trembling hands. As he did so, he began to wonder why Cid had given the others advice, and just expressed satisfaction with Squall. The Headmaster did not answer the curious change, and instead returned to his desk. He stood directly in front of it, and nodded at the assembled group.

"This ends the SeeD inauguration. All SeeDs and faculty, dismissed."

With that order, the older SeeDs and the Faculty filed out. The new SeeDs left with a bounce in their steps, while Zell practically bounded out the door in joy. Squall turned to join them, but as he did so, his eyes fell across something in one of the display cases.

An old gunblade, based off the standard Garden M1911 handgun. Inscribed on the handle were the letters "C.K." Squall glanced up at the Headmaster, who grinned.

"I was once a soldier too, just like you," Cid remarked, to which Squall nodded in new respect for the Headmaster.

"We'll talk privately one day," Cid added as he gestured towards the door. "But you've got things to do now. Go on. Get out of here. Nothing interesting happening up here, now."

Squall nodded again, and saluted Cid before leaving. As the new SeeD left, the high-level Faculty member approached the Headmaster.

"Sir," the Faculty said with a bow. "NORG would like to speak with you concerning an expulsion."

* * *

The elevator descended, carrying a lone Squall, and as the lift dropped down to the second floor, the new SeeD took a second to look over his new insignia. He was surprised (pleasantly for once) to see a total of nine small bars lining the sigil. Each bar was an indication of that SeeD's rank, and Squall had made rank nine, one of the highest a new SeeD could hope to attain, and one that instantly catapulted him into the five-digit figures when it came to his monthly salary. 

As Squall stepped off the elevator on the second floor, he spotted both Zell and Selphie, amidst a crowd of cheering cadets and SeeDs. The brawler spotted Squall and grinned even wider, waving him over.

"Squall!" he called. "You know what happens next, right?" The silent cadet shook his head, not understanding what Zell was getting at.

"Inauguration party, baby!" he explained. "Drinks and girls and-"

He was suddenly cut off as the group of cadets and SeeD began to part, and the cause became readily apparent. Towering over the other students and new SeeDs was the tall form of Seifer Almasy, who regarded the new group with an expressionless face. Zell noticed the two rivals, and recalling what he'd heard between Squall and Raijin, and combining that with those two's history, moved up beside Squall and tensed, preparing in case the taller cadet lashed out.

Squall, on the other hand, simply locked eyes with his rival. The two stood there for a moment, neither moving. Then, to everyone's surprise, Seifer nodded.

"Good job," he said, without a trace of his usual sarcasm. Seifer held up his hands, clapping them together. Fujin joined him, as did Raijin, and then many other cadets and SeeDs. A few cheers sounded from the group as well.

Selphie and Zell blushed, the smaller cadet putting her hands to her cheeks in embarrassment. Zell's grim, combat-ready expression faded and was replaced by a wide smile, and the other new SeeD, behind them, also grinned.

Squall blinked in confusion at the congratulations he was receiving, then nodded in thanks, not sure how to take it.

* * *

His new dress uniform was hanging up over his bed, Squall saw. The black and gold outfit was contained inside clear plastic wrapping, neatly pressed and ready to wear. Before donning the new uniform, Squall took a moment to see how much time was left until the obligatory party. About an hour or so, it seemed. Good. 

Squall doffed his cadet uniform, throwing off the sweat-soaked and blood-stained uniform, before grabbing his dress uniform and heading for the bathroom he and his unknown roommate shared. He glanced into the second dorm as he passed the open doorway, noting whoever the person was, they were not in. He reached for the bathroom door, and the sound of very cheerful and very familiar humming from the other side was his only warning as the door swung open. For the second time that day, Selphie Tilmitt slammed headlong into Squall Leonhart. As with before, Selphie fell back on her butt, while Squall still stood, off guard but otherwise fine.

"You alright?" Squall echoed from that morning as Selphie stood up, shaking her head. He noticed she was fully clad in her new SeeD uniform, complete with black jacket and skirt, gold trim, and a red tie and boots.

"Augh, I'm fine," Selphie replied, standing up. "We keep on doing tha- " Selphie stopped and stared at Squall. It was rare indeed to see Squall Leonhart only in his boxers, his lithe but muscled upper body fully exposed. Most other men his age would have been embarrassed in that situation, but Squall just stepped back and to the side, so Selphie could get past him.

"I take it you're my new roommate," Squall remarked as Selphie cleared out of his way. "Unless you have something for sneaking into other people's showers."

Selphie actually laughed at the deadpan comment as Squall stepped into the bathroom and shut the door. He spent a good, long twenty minutes in there, turning the water temperature up as high as he could stand it. The many bruises, scrapes, and cuts he'd taken on the exam, as well as his sore muscles, complained immediately, but then soothed and felt better. The bits of blood that had stained his skin and dried on his hair sloughed off, leaving a red pool around the drain that slowly lightened and vanished. Squall finished the shower, drying off and feeling better than he'd had all day. His duel with Seifer, the battle against Ifrit, and the prolonged Dollet mission, combined with the many miles he had covered and the numerous battles against marauding monsters, would have exhausted any man. The hot shower had mended that.

He donned his new dress uniform, and was quite pleased with it, upon examining it in the mirror. The tailors had done an excellent job with the uniform, and he had filled it out well. Like Selphie's, this outfit featured a black jacket with gold lining, along with a black belt and a small bandoleer running from the middle of the belt up to his left shoulder. The jacket was much longer than the one on the female uniform, Squall noted. The male uniform also included black pants and boots. He felt some pride welling up at looking at himself in the mirror. He was a SeeD now. After all these years, he had finally become a SeeD.

Squall stepped out of the shower, fully dressed in his new uniform. Selphie had been waiting for him, and as he emerged, she looked him over. The small SeeD grinned and gave Squall a thumbs-up.

"Heeey! Lookin' good!" she complimented him, to which Squall only shrugged. "Alright!" she then said, pumping a tiny fist in the air. "Let's hit that PAAH-TAY!"

* * *

-

* * *

As you may have noticed, this chapter is a lot like Juggernaut - mostly consisting of copied text from the original Gunblade that has been edited and repaired. I felt that attempting to rewrite this chapter would go off badly, as there was a whole lot of well-written stuff here, and side stories and plot bits that I didn't want to potentially damage or destroy in a full rewrite. 

To answer a remark in a previous chapter - Reload will have chapters like this one, where I took previously-written text and simply copyedited and repaired it. Other chapters - particularly action oriented ones or chapters which contain scenes I love and want to rewrite properly - will get the full treatment and a full rewrite. However, chapters that are satisfactory in my eyes or are just a lot of plot filler - which this one, sadly, was on both counts - will generally get the copyedit treatment, with additional stuff added in. Remember, this is primarily _a personal_ project for my own satisfaction.

On a complete and almost irrelevant side note, I wrote most of this chapter to _Adagio for Strings_ off the Homeworld sountrack. I got weird tastes in music . . . .

Chapter's been edited to remove some errors left over from when I copied and edited the original text, particularly the apparent contradiction of the presence of the SFV. Thanks for catching that, guys!

Until next chapter . . . .


	9. Chapter VIII: Celestial

_**Chapter VIII: Celestial**_

Garden's ballroom was located on the second floor, above the Quad. It was used primarily as a gathering place for celebrations and important functions, and doubled as a training dojo and social area during school hours.

Squall walked down the hallway leading into the ballroom, and found himself standing on a balcony overlooking the vast and elegant chamber. Like the rest of Garden, no expense had been spared in the ballroom. Golden lights filled the room, reflecting off polished marble floors and exquisitely designed columns. Stairways led down to the main dance floor and up to the darker second level. On both the second floor and the main floor were less brightly-lit, more private areas with tables and chairs and long trays of food and drinks. At the far end of the chamber was a stage, upon which was a small orchestra of musically inclined students and SeeDs. The dance floor itself was already full off dancing couples, in SeeD uniforms, tuxedoes, and fancy dresses.

Selphie had already dashed off somewhere, leaving the new SeeD alone on the balcony. He surveyed the room, looking for a place to go where he'd remain undisturbed. Social functions like this weren't pleasant events for him, and he had a hard time grasping the use of them. After a few moments, the SeeD started down the stairs, casting a glance up at the vast domed skylight that made up the chamber's roof. Stars twinkled down in the black night sky, and the silver disc of the moon poked through one edge of the glass skylight.

He glanced over at the dancers, and circled around the edge of the floor. Squall didn't have any intention of getting out there and dancing with them. Not that he wasn't a good dancer; he just didn't have a partner, nor did he _want_ one.

Squall worked his way towards the buffet tables set up near the stage, nodding in acknowledgement whenever a SeeD or cadet congratulated him. As Squall looked over the food set out for them, he noted the shadow of someone standing behind him was cast onto the table beside him. Squall turned to see Cid Kramer, holding a small plate of food. He was chewing something, then swallowed and smiled at Squall.

"Headmaster," Squall said with a respectful nod to Cid, who returned the nod with a smile. In this formal situation, salutes were unnecessary.

"Its good to see you in that uniform," Cid said approvingly as he looked Squall over from head to toe. "We've been expecting to see you in that for some time." Squall just nodded at Cid's statement.

"Thank you, sir," Squall replied. "I have too."

"How does it feel?" Cid asked, setting his plate down. "To be one of Garden's elite?"

"It feels . . ." Squall said, trailing off as he considered it. How did it feel to be a SeeD, finally? He mulled over that for a moment. It felt . . . _satisfying_. "It feels good, sir," Squall finally said.

"You've accomplished something," Cid said knowingly. "A long-held goal."

"Yeah," Squall replied with a short nod. He paused for a moment, then recalled the gunblade up in Cid's office, and the headmaster's words. "You said you wanted to talk to me in private?" The older man chuckled and nodded.

"I think you now know why I always wanted one of you two to make SeeD," Cid said. Squall knew precisely who the "other" person Cid was hinting at was. "Kind of silly, really. I was a soldier in Balamb's army, back when an army was needed during the Sorceress War with Esthar. I actually served alongside Zell's grandfather." Squall nodded, knowing the local stories about Gil Dincht and his role in defending Balamb in the face of Estharian aggression.

"Of course, you can guess what melee weapon I preferred at the time," Cid continued. "That gunblade saved my life more often than I can count. It served me well." Cid paused. "But, every time I look at it, I remember the faces and the blood of those that died by it."

"War is war," Squall said with a shrug. "They tried to kill you. They failed." In Squall's eyes, it was as simple as that. Cid seemed to mull over that, and shrugged as well.

"Whatever," Cid quipped, taking a line from Squall. "It's in the past now. This is the present." Cid gestured out towards the party. "And _they_ are the future."

_The SeeDs?_ Squall thought, glancing at the dancing couples and knots of talking cadets and SeeDs. What was the cryptic old man talking about? Before Squall could ask for clarification, however, a tall, white-clad figure emerged from the crowds and approached the talking pair. Squall didn't recognize the man, but the uniform was familiar; men and women wearing the outfit had been seen occasionally inside Garden over the years, but what it signified was unclear.

"Headmaster," the newcomer spoke, bowing slightly as he approached.

"Ah, Trent," Cid remarked, nodding to the white-clad figure. He was young, probably not out of his mid-twenties, and clad in a creamy white long-sleeved shirt, pants, and boots, with black belt and gloves, and white headband encircling his forehead, holding back his black hair. The uniform was clean and spotless, but utilitarian and rugged; it seemed out of place amidst the fancy dress of the ballroom dance.

"Its good to see you here," Cid added. "Business?"

"The usual," answered the white-clad man, and Squall caught sight of one other unusual feature: he was armed. On his belt were a pair of bladed steel tonfas, and just behind the tonfa on his right side was a holstered M1911. While wearing weapons to formal occasions was not unusual, weapons were banned during functions like this, due to the presence of alcohol. The last thing the faculty wanted was a couple of drunken, armed mercenaries with grudges.

"I was actually asked to bring this to you, Headmaster," Trent explained, and produced an optical disk. "The latest intelligence reports we've gathered from Galbadia. You should find some interest in the contents."

"Thank you," Cid replied with a gracious nod, taking the disk and pocketing it. He then gestured toward Squall. "Trent, this is the cadet . . . Well, now _SeeD_, that I told you about. Squall Leonhart, the best to have come out of Garden yet. Squall, this is Trent, a close associate of Garden and SeeD."

Trent and Squall sized each other up, and Squall noted the man's perceptive, knowing eyes. The taller man nodded at Squall, who returned the nod, neither speaking; they didn't have to, for they understood one another well enough. From the way Trent carried himself, his grace and discerning eyes, and especially the tonfas on Trent's belt, Squall knew the man was a warrior, likely a SeeD of some capacity, or formerly one. Both men seemed equally disciplined and aware of their sense of duty, and neither man had any use for unnecessary words.

"I'm sorry, Headmaster," Trent added after he had sized up the SeeD. "Business is calling me elsewhere right now. I merely came by to deliver that package to you."

"That's fine," Cid replied with a smile. "It was good to see you again. Keep your people safe."

"Of course, Headmaster," Trent replied with another short bow, and then turned to depart.

"Well," Cid continued, picking up his plate and turning back to Squall. "I would like to ask you to stay around for a little while, enjoy the party. Maybe even take a dance."

Both men knew that was as likely as Zell staying quiet.

"Of course, sir," Squall said instead. With that, Cid smiled, nodded, and walked off.

Half an hour later, Squall had found an unobtrusive spot where he could stand back and observe the ballroom without being bothered. A waitress had passed by and offered him a drink, which he took with a nod. Alcohol was something that was normally prohibited within Garden for anyone below eighteen years, but was generally tolerated when used in moderation. He sipped the champagne and watched the dancers idly, reflecting on everything that had brought him to this point.

He'd come to Garden at a young age. Squall had never recalled exactly when he had come, except it was in his very early years, probably before he was eight. He didn't remember much of the younger days he had spent here, something he attributed to the intense training he had gone through. At only eleven years of age Squall had begun combat training, first in the hand-to-hand martial arts, then in general weapons training, before moving on to his weapon of choice, the gunblade. All the while he had also learned other critical skills, such as driving, computer operations, tactics, military history, chemistry, biology, and dozens of other skills.

During that time, Squall had been the best, matched only by Seifer. They had been ferocious rivals, pushing each other to their absolute limits, above and beyond those of other cadets. It wasn't a case of being gifted, though Squall was exceptionally capable at his job; it was simply a case of the two cadets driving each other mercilessly, Seifer's arrogance and Squall's stubbornness colliding to forge the two best students in the organization. They had bitten and clawed their way to the top of Garden, where only those two kings of the hill remained to challenge each other . . . And now, Squall had proven he was the better.

Seifer was out there right then, across the ballroom, still clad in his white coat. He was talking with Cid as they stood in the shaded area under the second level. Both men wore serious expressions, and Seifer gestured out across the ballroom. Cid peered out, but shrugged as if he did not see what Seifer was speaking of.

Squall himself shrugged as well, internally. Whatever they were speaking of didn't matter. Even now, Seifer didn't matter. Now that Squall was a SeeD, he had proven himself better than Seifer, and the older cadet seemed to accept that fact, judging by the way he had congratulated Squall a couple of hours ago.

As Squall looked away from Seifer and Cid, he spotted Zell, resplendent in his uniform. The brawler had spent most of the night talking, recounting his exploits in the battle in Dollet, and also dancing from time to time. Squall had noted that Zell was most often taking dances with the girl who ran the front desk in the Library. That wasn't surprising, considering the two were a bit of an item around Garden. Even though Squall deliberately distanced himself from the rumor mill, he still couldn't help but catch the occasional tidbit.

At the moment, the brawler was working his way through the dance floor crowd, and as he broke free, Zell spotted Squall, standing alone. The martial artist grinned and made for Squall with a shout of "Yo!" to alert his fellow SeeD.

"S'up, Squall?" Zell laughed as he approached. "I guess we're both SeeDs now, huh?" Squall nodded at his greeting, but said nothing in reply to Zell's statement of the blatantly obvious. Even as Squall watched, Zell wiped his hand off on his pant leg and stuck it forward. "Put it there, man."

Squall just looked down at the hand, glanced back up at Zell, and looked away, taking a sip of his champagne.

Zell got the hint.

"Hah, even as a SeeD, you're still the same," Zell remarked. "Well, that's typical of you. I gotta get back to our party, and you should too, man!" Squall did turn his gaze back to Zell at that, his expression telling of the likelihood of that happening. "Well, see ya," Zell finished, waving his hand and walking off. Squall just nodded as Zell left.

A moment later, Squall thought he heard Selphie saying something to Zell about him joining the Garden Festival Committee. Squall, slightly curious, turned his head in time to see Selphie, looking disappointed, and Zell, who was rapidly moving away from the tiny SeeD. Selphie sighed, and looked around. Her green eyes spotted Squall, standing alone and looking at her curiously, and it was at that moment that he realized that he was her next target. Selphie turned towards Squall and approached, locking onto him and approaching with a single-minded intent that matched that of the Galbadian spider machine from a few hours ago.

"Squall! Hi!" she called innocently as she approached. "Wanna join the Garden Festival Committee?" Squall blinked in surprise at what Selphie had just asked.

The tiny SeeD was indeed part of the Festival Committee. In fact, she was the head of the committee, and also filled in all the other roles of the Committee as well. That tended to happen when one was the only member. Squall had heard that Selphie had totally revamped the online Festival Committee site on the Garden's networks, and had more or less turned it into her own personal site, including a public, online journal. Now, it seemed, Selphie was on a recruiting drive for more members. Under normal circumstances, Squall would have just blown her off then and there. However, this was Selphie, with her endearing and innocent attitude that even Squall had a hard time refusing.

"You can help out whenever you have time," Selphie added. "I could use the help. Please?" If it were possible, Selphie seemed even more innocent and endearing now than she had a moment before. And, admittedly, Selphie was really hurting for the help. After all, she was asking for help from _Squall_, of all people. And Squall, while cool and aloof, was not exactly uncaring about others. He wasn't Seifer, after all.

"Sure," Squall said, not sure what he was probably getting himself into. "You seem to be putting a lot of effort into this."

"Really?" Selphie responded, shocked. She must have been truly desperate. "Whoo-hoo! Thank you! I know we'll be busy with lots of SeeD stuff, but let's work hard on the Garden Festival too." Selphie turned around, scanning the area for anymore potential helpers/victims. She locked onto a nearby cadet who happened to be passing nearby.

"Thanks, Squall. Bye!" Selphie called over her shoulder as she chased after the cadet. "'S'cuse me! Hey, you there!"

* * *

Maybe it was just the alcohol, but Squall was slowly loosening up as the night wore on, feeling more comfortable. Of course, part of that was also the fact that no one else bothered him. A few cadets or SeeDs would walk past, waving and congratulating him in a polite manner, but none of them stayed to talk; Squall's reputation proceeded him like a vanguard warding off others. 

"Never thought I'd see you wearing that before me," came a familiar voice, and Squall looked up, to see Seifer approaching, a smile on his face. From the slightly exaggerated swagger he had adopted, Squall guessed that he had taken his fair share of champagne as well. The look on his face, though, surprised the SeeD. Seifer looked almost . . . approving?

"Not bad, Squall," he added as he stood next to his rival, his arms crossed. Seifer nodded, and laughed. "Amazed you beat me to it."

"You fucked up today," Squall replied bluntly. He wanted to tell more, to explain to Seifer, in exacting detail just how he'd FUBAR'd the mission, but cut himself off, surprised at his urges. The champagne was getting to him.

"Not like it matters," Seifer replied, and chuckled. "SeeD's not that important, really." Squall gave him a curious glance at those words, and Seifer gestured out toward the dance floor.

"SeeD's just a stepping stone, Squall," Seifer stated. "A way to get respect. Respect, and _fear_."

"Fear?"

"Yeah," Seifer replied, nodding, with a vicious grin on his face. Squall wondered how much the alcohol was affecting the blond now.

"I'm not like all these other fools," Seifer stated, gesturing out towards the crowd. "They want to be SeeDs for the money, or the adventure. I'm in it for the reputation. For the respect and the recognition.

"You see, Squall," he continued. "We're damn _scary_. No one messes with SeeD, because everyone knows what a SeeD can do. I mean, we massacred the Galbadians today, and that's SOP! When the Galbadians were out there, fighting us today, they were _terrified_. Afraid of us, because they knew what we were. They take one look at that uniform, and their knees begin shaking, because they've heard of you, they know about you, and they are afraid because of that."

"And fear," Squall stated, realizing Seifer's reasoning, "gets you killed." It was understandable. Squall fought back against fear with all his being, because fear paralyzes a warrior.

"'_A trembling hand does not thrust the blade true_,'" Seifer quoted a famous line from a Galbadian tactical manual. "It's an edge, Squall, an edge I intend to exploit. And SeeD will give me that edge. They'll know I was a _SeeD_, and they will know through that that I am an enemy not to be trifled with."

"_They_?" Squall asked, confused.

"The _enemy_," Seifer replied, as if it were obvious. "There will always be an enemy, Squall. Something to put your blade against. Fear tilts the odds more in my favor," Seifer grinned, conviction and determination apparent on his face. "One more thing to put me in line to be the best, and to fulfill my dream . . ."

Seifer turned away, looking up into the skylight overhead.

"My dream . . ." Seifer added. "My fantasy . . . to be remembered for all time, as the greatest swordsman ever to walk the earth! I will etch my name into history, Squall! Hundreds - no, _thousands_ - of years from now I will be remembered and spoken of . . . ." Seifer turned back to Squall, and once more gestured to the crowd. "Unlike these dreamless fools." And with that, Seifer strode off, not looking back.

Squall watched him go, surprised at Seifer's revelation to him, and considering its meaning. The best? Quite a lofty goal, it seemed, and one that certainly explained his desire to outdo anyone else, particularly Squall. And the fact that Seifer was using SeeD for its reputation more than any other benefit confused Squall as well.

As Seifer's white trenchcoat disappeared, Squall thought of his rival in a new light, and thought that he might, just might, understand his rival's viewpoint on these matters. Not making SeeD was bad enough for someone with aspirations for money or excitement. But if Seifer never made it, but Squall did . . . how would that reflect on Seifer's reputation? That he could never be "better" than Squall would be a stain on the reputation, a burr on the sharpened edge Seifer hoped to exploit. The simple fact that someone was better than him out there would make Seifer's foes a little less afraid of the ambitious fighter.

And that could be fatal, to either Seifer or his dreams.

The blond cadet passed out of sight then, and Squall shook his head. Taking another sip on his glass, he looked back out at the dancers. He didn't know if Seifer was simply crazy or damn brilliant, but it didn't matter to Squall.

* * *

A new champagne glass replaced the first one, and Squall was feeling at ease. He leaned back against his pillar, taking in the floor and wondering how much longer he would need to hang around before he could simply slip off and get some sleep. Today had been long and brutal, and he was feeling it even through the buzz of alcohol. 

The dance floor had begun to thin out as the latest song wound down. Squall could see Zell off across the room, scarfing down a hot dog by the refreshments table, and Selphie was hurrying about, trying to find more recruits for her committee. Seifer was off somewhere, skulking and drinking.

Taking another sip of his champagne, Squall looked up toward the second floor, at the SeeDs and cadets gathered there, but found nothing of interest. His eyes continued tracing up, toward the vast skylight overhead, gleaming in the ballroom light, and the scattered, shining stars overhead. The moon poked around the edge of the skylight, an ominous silver disk looming overhead.

Something cut across the sky, what looked like a shooting star. He looked up at it for a moment, and then lowered his gaze back toward the dance floor, deciding that if he was just going to watch the skies all night then he had might as well leave this boring place. He had more important things to do, like hitting his bunk.

Something on the dance floor caught his eye as he looked down though, for amidst the dancers gathering for the next song, he saw a single figure, who was also looking up at the skylight, an expression of amused wonder on her face.

The girl was slender, almost waifish, and was near Squall's own age. Black hair that dropped past her shoulders framed a delicate, pale face with deep brown eyes, that almost looked black against her hair, and caramel streaks cut through her bangs. A white dress of fine, gleaming silk clung to her curves, accentuating her slender form, and revealing long, graceful legs with tiny feet set in delicate shoes that matched her dress.

She looked over at him, seeming to sense his eyes on her, and raised a hand, pointing toward the ceiling, a strange smile on her face, as if saying "I saw that too." Squall cocked his head to the side, entranced by her face and smile, and belatedly wondered if the alcohol was having an effect on him. At that moment, though, the girl started moving toward him, and he found his attention shifting to the graceful manner she moved across the floor, and the manner in which her long legs carried her over the gleaming marble.

He tried to place her, but the way she moved, and her slender form, lacking much of the muscle tone of a SeeD or cadet, told him she wasn't a student or employee, which left Squall at a loss to determine who she was.

As she drew closer, Squall tactfully shifted his attention toward her face, and saw those deep brown eyes alight with curiosity and interest. He inwardly cursed the alcohol that was boosting his biological impulses. As he watched her, Squall noted a silver chain around her neck, with a ring matching it hanging from the links. A warm, pleasant scent touched his nose as she drew closer, her smile setting him at ease even as his heart started beating faster.

"You're the best looking guy here," she finally said, still wearing her intoxicating smile. Her voice was soft, yet playful and interested. An instant before she spoke the next words, Squall realized what she was going to ask.

"Dance with me?" she asked hopefully.

Yes, she was beautiful. Yes, she had Squall's attention. And yes, Squall was intrigued and interested by this girl he had never seen before. But Squall was still Squall, and he did not like the idea of stepping out onto the dance floor with a complete stranger in a public place with dozens and dozens of observers, many of whom knew all about Squall's antisocial tendencies. He could only imagine the reaction that would roll out of him being seen dancing with her.

Squall answered her question by taking a sip on his glass and fixating his gaze on a lamp across the room. To his surprise, however, he had a hard time looking away from her smile, and she was undeterred by his blunt, unspoken response.

"Let me guess," she began. "You'll only dance with someone you like? Okay, then . . ." She suddenly stepped closer, raising a hand in front of her face. Squall, startled, turned back toward her as she spoke again, his eyes locking on her delicate fingers as they twirled before his face.

"You are going to like me," she said, her voice a parody of a hypnotist. She repeated the phrase several times, and then stopped, her expression shifting hopefully. "Did it work?"

The combination of champagne, the beautiful smile, the silliness of the situation, and the expression in her eyes did it for the ordinarily stoic SeeD, and he managed a quiet, amused laugh.

"I can't dance." It was as blunt a lie as he could say, and it never would have worked with anyone who was actually a member of Garden; formal functions like this were part and parcel of a SeeD's undercover training, and dancing went right with it.

In all honesty, Squall did feel an urge to go dance with her, and if they were alone, he might just have taken her up on his offer. But his reputation was at stake, the reputation that kept everyone at a safe distance.

"You'll be fine," she replied, and grabbed his free hand, her warm fingers closing over his and her tone telling him she didn't believe a word. He suddenly found her pulling his arm and yanking him toward the dance floor. For half a second, he considered refusing her - even without his junctions Squall could have easily held his position - but something held him back. She marched out onto the floor, with the new SeeD in tow, and he made the best of the situation by making it obvious she was dragging him out against his will. That only made the scene even more ridiculous for those who knew Squall and how strong he actually was.

A passing SeeD found himself gifted with a free glass of champagne as Squall was dragged past, and he decided he quickest way to save himself would be to simply prove to his endearing partner just how much of a waste of time it was to dance with him. She pulled him out into the middle of the floor, and spun around.

"Left hand here, right hand here," she said over the din of the familiar _Waltz for the Moon_ dance melody. Squall knew the positions perfectly, but his arms moved slowly, uncertainly, and she had to work to get his right hand on her hip and his left in her right. Squall found her close proximity something new and invigorating, and he fought to keep his awkward act up as his nose filled with her perfume.

She took the lead, going along with his act, and he made her work for every step. His feet dragged on the floor, his steps hesitant and uncertain. She went left, and he stayed put, stumbling after her, and as she stepped right, he fell in that direction, his movements a carefully choreographed mockery of all his training and education. It took a real master to be as bad a dancer as he was, and Squall felt a bit of pride as she moved backward, and he stumbled right into her, his movements as clumsy yet perfectly contrived as he could make them.

"Try that again," she whispered, an amused smile on her face, and he realized with minor horror that she was enjoying "teaching" him these dance moves. She replaced his hands, and started to lead him again, and he pretended to almost know what they were doing, until she performed a breakaway step and came back, only for Squall to crash into her, a movement as perfectly timed as a sharpshooter's single gunshot.

That should have been enough to teach the girl the futility of trying to dance with him, and Squall made a show of shaking his head and turning to walk away. He barely got a couple of steps when her hand closed around his, and she started pulling him back.

"One more time," she pleaded, and he found it impossible to argue with her face. "Let's try a different kind of waltz." She raised his left hand in her right, and began a delicate step and turn around him that he wasted no time ruining. As she tried to lead him, he subtly guided them closer to another dancing pair, and when she took a step toward them, both SeeD and his partner crashed into another couple.

"Hey, watch it!" said the male SeeD, before realizing who he was complaining at. The black-haired girl, however, stuck out her tongue at the man, as if he was responsible for the collision. She looked back up at Squall, patience and hope filling her eyes, and Squall realized that she had probably seen through the whole ruse, and was willing to keep going on until he got tired of it.

Squall sighed and took a step back, raising his right hand, matching her pose perfectly, and nodded, giving up and allowing the girl this dance. After all, she had earned it with her persistence.

The orchestra hit a crescendo, and they stepped, flowing in time., their legs weaving around each other in a delicate yet complex pattern of taps and twirls. Squall moved and found her matching and following his motions with the ease and fluidity of a practiced dancer. They seemed to move as one, breaking and stepping around each other, he catching her hand and spinning her around , stepping around and outside as she spun close and inside.

The song hit its peak, and the dance ended with a final step, drawing the pair in close together, even closer than the opening of the waltz called for. Her scent once again filled his nose and her warmth pressed in, and rush of startling and singular intimacy unlike anything he'd known. The chamber darkened as the waltz became quiet and intimate, and he could feel her against him, only the fabric of their clothes separating their skin.

No, there was one memory of such warmth and intimacy, and it mimicked this moment of perfection, this instance of pure _right._

Flashes of light filled the room, and they both looked up to see glittering fireworks exploding in the night sky far above. He watched the display, and the entire night rushed in to fill him at that moment, and a quiet, satisfied smile struck him as he watched the lights play overhead.

"Thank you," he heard her whisper in his ear, and Squall looked down, to see the girl suddenly breaking away from him, still smiling, and she moved away without warning, the moment of intimacy and belonging vanishing as she hurried across the dance floor, leaving him alone again. A strange sense of disappointment filled him as he watched her depart, just like everything else warm and pleasant and close had departed as well.

She vanished, leaving him alone, just as he always had been, and, he realized at that moment, just as he always should be.

Before the lights came back up, Squall Leonhart had stalked off the dance floor, more sullen and unhappy than he'd been when he started.

* * *

-

* * *

Blame things like Twilight Princess for how long this chapter took to write.

Most of this chapter was primarily reworked from the original; Selphie, Zell, Seifer, and Cid's segments were well done in the original and I only saw the need for cosmetic and structural improvements. They took somewhat low priority to me when compared with what I felt was the turely important element of this chapter: the dance scene.

I completely rewrote the dance scene, as it is one of my favorite moments in the game, and I wanted to properly recapture it and the extremely symbolic effect of it, for everyone involved. In many ways, it represents thecharacters in microcosm; Rinoa's persistence getting through to Squall, his tendency to push her away until she shows how she isn't going to go away, his momentary rediscovery of what it is like to be with someone else (I mean, look at his expression as he's watching the fireworks. Its hard to tell from the camera angle, but he's got a small, tight, satisfied smile on his face) and even showing the reason why he tends to be a loner - that look on his face as Rinoa leaves is somewhat crushing, you know? I feel sorry for the poor guy. He might have even gotten laid that night if she hadn't run off. :P

I can't guarantee when the next update will be. I'm chipping away at the next Ocarina chapter, as well as working on SOOPER SEKRET PROJEKTS. The only hint I'm giving about these projects is one word: chainsaws. :P

Until next chapter . . . .


	10. Chapter IX: Open

_**Chapter IX: Open**_

The night air was refreshing, and Squall needed the slight boost to his spirit after that blunt end to the dance. He leaned against the stone balcony overlooking the east side of the Garden, and shook his head, wondering why he'd bothered indulging that girl just to have her walk away. She was like everyone else, really; transient, unpredictable, _unreliable_.

It was probably a good thing she'd left at that moment, because if she hadn't, he might have started enjoying her presence _more_, and that would have made her inevitable departure even worse. Now that he was alone, he could stop and think rationally, and remember why he kept everyone at arm's length, avoided alcohol, and didn't let his hormones dominate his thinking. Still, it was hard to feel rational when he was so angry, mostly at himself for being stupid enough to let himself feel that way toward the girl.

Squall peered over the eastern grounds, thoughts drifting, when he heard footsteps on the stone balcony. He could tell who she was simply from the way she was walking and the hard soles _clacking_ on the tiles.

"You really are an excellent student, you know," Quistis said, her voice echoing approval. "Even that dance was perfect."

Squall considered the quickest way to get her out of his hair before she started lecturing him on something, or _worse_, tried to chat with him.

"Thank you," he replied after a moment, settling on a delaying tactic until he could come up with an excuse to get away. She had him cornered on the balcony, so he would have to find a way to withdraw before the conversation turned to the blunt and one-sided affair it usually ended up being. That, in turn, would get her upset, and have her start complaining at him - the last thing he wanted to hear.

The seconds passed, and he kept looking over the grounds below. If he had his junctions, he could jump off the side of the balcony, though that was grandstanding on the same level Seifer would have done. As the moments passed, Quistis remained silent, and he wondered why she had come out here. Was she expecting him to start talking?

"Yes?" he asked, in the curt tone of a soldier who had been summoned and was awaiting orders.

"So, you'll dance with someone you don't even know, but won't talk with me?" Quistis asked, and Squall frowned. She sounded hurt, but that really wasn't his problem.

"You're an Instructor," he explained. "And I am . . . I _was _your student. Its awkward when you don't say anything."

Quistis was silent for a few moments, considering what he had to say, and he finally heard her chuckle quietly, and looked back at her.

"Its true," she remarked, nodding. "I was like that myself, and that was only a couple of years ago. Speaking of which, I almost forgot something." Squall caught the faint shift in her tone, to something much more serious.

"I have an order for you," she explained. "The last order I'll be able to give you, really." Squall frowned, wondering if she was pulling rank on him. It was true that she was several grades above him, but those last words intrigued him.

"Last order?" he echoed, and she nodded.

"Get your weapons and meet me in front of the Training Center," she explained. "We're going to go to the 'secret area.'"

"Why?" Squall asked, confused. The "secret area" was the nickname given to a balcony at the far end of the indoor jungle, which overlooked most of the forest and served as a safe spot for students to hide and talk, or do other, more scandalous things after curfew.

"Are we going there to tell everyone they're breaking curfew?" he muttered, checking his watch. It was only an hour until midnight, when curfew began, so doing that now would be something only an asshole like Seifer would enjoy.

"No," Quistis replied with a smile. "Just meet me there. I'll explain later." With that, she turned and walked back inside, leaving Squall alone. He looked back up at the night sky, shook his head, and turned, heading back indoors as well. At least it would be a good excuse to get away from the damned party, and maybe he could take out his frustration on a Grat.

Besides, he mused, she_ had_ saved his life today.

* * *

Squall's return to his dorm room was uneventful, and he quickly changed into his working outfit: leather jacket, fatigue pants, white shirt, combat boots. Not one to go into a dangerous area underarmed, he checked and holstered his sidearm as well as his gunblade, and his knives went in their usual sheaths.

Twenty minutes after the meeting on the balcony, Squall was walking down the main lobby, circling around the elevators, and spotted Quistis waiting on the walkway that led to the eastern end of the Garden. She had changed into same casual peach outfit she'd worn that morning, apparently deciding to not bother ruining perfectly fine clothes.

"There you are," she said, smiling. Squall noticed that she was wearing her rante on her belt, but that was the only weapon she'd brought. He frowned for a moment, before reverting back to his usual impassive stare. It wouldn't do to have an underarmed squadmate, but Quistis was his superior, and her loadout was her choice.

Squall didn't reply, and after a moment, Quistis gestured over her shoulder, toward the corridor beyond.

"Let's go, its almost midnight," she said, and they started down the passage. Squall frowned as they walked, the Instructor leading the way. Why was midnight so important? The Training Center was open at all hours.

Squall felt the temperate air of the Garden interior slowly shift as they headed up the passage, replaced by a damp warmth and a wild scent of plant life. The passage ended with a wide opening leading into an enormous dome on the east side of the Garden, the ceramic tiles replaced by thick, moist dirt under their feet. The shifting temperature and moist air turned into clouds of foggy mist hanging in an oppressive, dank jungle heat. Verdant plants sprouted from the ground and loomed around them, ferns and small trees flanking the entrance to the Training Center.

"Low-level or high?" Squall asked as they moved through the outer, secure section of the miniature ecosystem. The Training Center was divided into several distinct areas containing specific monsters, each region serving as a different challenge level for students and SeeDs.

"We're not here for exercise, are we?" Quistis replied, and started toward the south end of the secured section. Squall shrugged as they headed toward the gates running to the low-level survival and combat sector. Within a few minutes they reached the large, heavily reinforced electrical fences walling off that part of the dome, and passed through the main gates. Wordlessly, they started west.

The training facility stretched on for a while; though less than a quarter of a mile across all told, it was difficult terrain to move through. If Squall was an ordinary soldier he would have regretting carrying so much gear in the oppressive heat and tangled undergrowth, but his junctions made the weight a trivial concern, and he shifted his enhanced defenses while moving, junctioning fire magic to armor his skin against the temperature.

Thy had been inside the complex for about ten minutes when Squall, in the lead, held up a hand. Quistis came to a halt and put a hand on her whip, ready to draw at any sign of movement.

"Granaldo nest," Squall hissed, and she nodded. The last thing they wanted tonight was to disturb a nest full of those particularly unpleasant predators. They opted to back up and give the mound of orange and black carapace ahead of them plenty of room. The things were mostly there to keep the weaker monster population under control or to serve as a challenge for the better students, but they were vicious predators no one wanted to tangle with when they weren't ready.

Within fifteen minutes, they had cut through most of the lower-level parts of the facility, without encountering any of the more rapidly breeding denizens of the jungle. The Grats were the most common monsters, a spore-breeding plant-like creature that grew fast and provided a moderate challenge for most combat students. There weren't very many in the facility nowadays, as the end of the semester brought a lot more students in to train and thin their numbers. That would change when the fall semester started, as the Grats would have had plenty of time to grow back and replenish their numbers over the summer.

On the far west wall there was a doorway that led to a series of maintenance tunnels and a couple of observation balconies on the interior of the dome, as well as one that was set up outside, on the Training Center's roof. It was unlocked, a safety measure for students who wanted somewhere safe to rest, heal, or hide during training sessions. Since these tunnels weren't monitored and the Training Center was open at all hours, it became a common place for students to sneak out for some unsupervised R&R.

Quistis and Squall headed up the tunnels that circled around the dome, and paused outside the doorway leading to the exterior balcony. As Quistis moved to open the door, she noticed that her companion had slid of her left, on the other side of the door. She smirked as she understood his body language; he was considering the other side to be an unsecured area, and was moving into room-clearing position without even thinking about it. She wondered if he _ever_ relaxed.

Cooler air drifted inward as Quistis opened the door, and she peered through, checking to make sure she wasn't interrupting anything. The balcony was large, and a few couples were nestled into corners, but there wasn't anything more illicit than some hands holding and hugs. She glanced back to Squall.

"Clear," she said, and offered a smile as they moved through the portal. She wondered if he caught the joke referring to his body language, but couldn't tell. His face remained the impassive mask it had been since she'd met him outside.

She walked over to the edge of the balcony, overlooking the grounds of the Garden, and the enormous specter of the main building itself. At nighttime, the Garden shone like a beacon, the spinning ring overhead lazily rotating around the main structure and casting ghostly illumination over the plains surrounding it. Behind her, Squall wandered toward the balcony and leaned on the cool metal railing.

He was no stranger to this balcony, though he usually only came here early in the evening, just after sundown, before most of the students snuck off to fraternize. It was quiet, it was distant, and at night, it was beautiful. He could appreciate beauty, though most people in Garden would have been shocked to hear that he felt anything about_ anything_. Tonight, however, he didn't really want to be out here; the most beautiful thing for Squall Leonhart right now would be his own bed.

There was a long period of silence, and he made the best of it by appreciating the view. Still, he suspected that Quistis had dragged him out here to do more than just look at the pretty lights, and he wasn't surprised when she spoke up.

"What time is it?" she asked. He blinked, surprised at how low and quiet her voice was, and then checked his watch. 00:12.

"After midnight," he replied. He saw Quistis shoulders slump, and she sighed deeply.

"Well, that's it then," she murmured. "As of now, I'm no longer an Instructor."

Squall blinked again, surprised, but not terribly so. There had been signs the faculty had not been satisfied with her methods. There were rumors she was trying to fraternize with students, though he suspected that was just idle gossip, and some reports that she lacked leadership capabilities. He honestly wasn't surprised at that; though she was a qualified SeeD, she didn't have a whole lot of combat experience.

"I'm just a SeeD now, like you," she added, and smirked. "Maybe we'll end up working together?" He nodded. She was a higher rank than him, meaning she'd probably end up being a mission, platoon, or squad leader. There were worse COs he could have.

"Really?" he asked after mulling it over, and looking back toward the shining Garden.

"Is that all you're going to say?" she asked, her accusing tone catching him off guard. He glanced back at Quistis, who seemed just as surprised, probably as much from her tone as his off-hand question. For a moment, he felt guilty, but dismissed it. She should be expecting him to be this way, dragging him out here like this. Just because he was indulging her for saving his life didn't mean he had to be nice about it.

"If that's what the faculty decided, you have to follow it," he replied with a shrug. He'd seen too many people promoted past their ability anyway; it was good that someone unqualified would get busted back down to where they belonged.

A deafening barrage of silence returned as they both looked over the grounds. Squall could see people moving here and there, as the inauguration party started dying down. He wouldn't be surprised if at least one couple tried sneaking out here for some fun, and he wanted to be gone by the time they started filtering in.

"They said I failed as an Instructor," Quistis muttered, and Squall found himself being forced to pay attention to her again. "I lacked leadership abilities and experience." She looked up toward the sky. "I made SeeD at fifteen, Instructor at seventeen. Its only been a year since I earned it . . . ." She looked at Squall, to find he was intently studying the pitting on the metal wall behind her.

"Aren't you listening to me?" she asked, and he closed his eyes. He seemed to mull over his response for a moment.

"I don't want to talk about it," he stated after a second, concluding his mental debate and opting for blunt directness. "What am I supposed to say about other people's problems?"

"I don't want you to say anything," Quistis said, almost pleading. "I just want you to _listen_."

Squall didn't want to listen. He wanted to go to _sleep._ He been almost killed four times today already, and he didn't want to be bored to death by Quistis' ramblings. He didn't _care_ about her problems.

"Then go talk to a wall," he replied. He'd had enough of this, and if Quistis didn't get the hint-

"Don't you ever want to talk to someone else?" she asked. Something about her tone made him halt for a moment; she wanted an explanation, was practically begging for one. He understood what _else_ she wanted, but he didn't let anyone inside. Too dangerous. His problems were his, and her problems were hers.

"Everyone has to take care of themselves," he replied, without looking back. "I don't want to carry anyone else's burden." Didn't she get that by now? Five years of stonewalling her should have shown her what he thought about her constant, unending intrusions.

He disappeared through the door, leaving Quistis standing at the balcony, with nothing to say.

She turned around, looking back up at the stars, and sighed again.

_No leadership qualities . . . failed instructor . . . maybe they're right . . . ._

She turned around and started to leave, resigning herself to a long walk in the hot jungle before getting back to her dorm. Quistis asked herself where she'd gone wrong, and why he wouldn't listen to her. What had made Squall into the statue he was? He'd told her to go talk to a wall, when that was precisely what Squall himself _was_.

Quistis stepped out of the maintenance tunnel, but pulled herself up short as she passed through the doorway.

Squall was leaning against a tree in front of the door, his arms crossed, staring at the dirt at his feet. He glanced up as she emerged, and straightened, before gesturing that she take the lead again. Quistis nodded, and started leading the way, doing her best to hide the small smile on her face. She wasn't sure if waiting for her was his way of apologizing or simply him making sure she wasn't on her own in dangerous territory.

Either way, she appreciated it.

* * *

The heat was getting troubling. Sweat was running down his brow, and that just aggravated him more. If he didn't have a utilitarian use for the jacket and its ammunition and supply pouches on the inside, he would have doffed it already.

They paused from time to time as they heard rustlings in the brush around them, but no monsters emerged to try and attack them. the Grats had enough problems with Granaldo predators, and had enough basic wits about them to know when their numbers weren't enough to threaten the humans.

After one such alert pause, Quistis glanced back toward Squall, who stood behind her, tense, one hand on his gunblade handle. She needed to talk to him about what happened on the balcony, and why had he been so cold to her. Was it simply combat fatigue or just his intolerable selfishness? She and opened her mouth to ask him.

A scream lanced through the Training Center, and both of them whipped around toward the direction it had originated from. It had been human, female, and pitched with a terrified timbre. Both SeeDs bolted forward at the same time, Quistis uncoiling her rante and wrapping it around her arm, ready to snap out. She heard the hiss of metal on leather, and caught a glimmer of light reflected off the polished steel of Squall's blade.

They heard the scream again, and over it was a harsh, powerful roar, screeching and vicious. That made the two SeeDs' legs pump even harder, and they blasted through the brush as they recognized the monster: a Granaldo.

The plants were smashed out of their way as they burst through the underbrush and entered a clearing, in time to see a massive beast with an orange and black carapace and beating dragonfly wings swooping down toward a young woman. She screamed again as the monster dove upon her-

-and the creature broke off, screeching in agony as Squall's gunblade tumbled end over end before burying into its torso. The creature whirled as it dropped to the ground, baleful eyes glaring at the newcomers beneath the armored plating that covered its head. The creature vaguely resembled a mixture of insect and dragon, with its deceptively delicate wings and chitinous outer plating, covering a serpentine body. The claws of its forearms clicked and snapped in rage, and it hurled itself at the intruders, completely ignoring the girl it had been chasing.

Quistis came to a halt as she called up her junctioned magic, but Squall didn't bother slowing down. He dashed straight into the clearing, leaping at the Granaldo and crashing into its chest. The beast was nearly twice his size, but the impact sent the monster tumbling back, and SeeD and fiend rolled across the grass in a tangle of limbs and chitin. A moment later, they disengaged with a shuddering squeal from the monster, and Squall rolled away, his gunblade torn free and in his hands. Blood dripped off the weapon as he slid into a balanced guard.

Energy swept through Quistis' body and out of her fingers, lancing into the predator's back as it faced Squall. Jets of fire seared through the monster's carapace, and it reeled, stumbling forward and to the ground. Squall leapt at the beast as it was momentarily stunned, the gunblade arcing back over his shoulder and coming down in a momentous sweep of heavy steel. The blade bit into hardened carapace that would deflect bullets, and the SeeD's boosted strength sent the weapon straight through. Squall pulled the trigger as he cleaved into the monster's torso, and the Granaldo was blasted backward, blood and armor plating flying from the shock.

Squall stalked forward, gunblade tight in his hands as the Granaldo retreated, hissing and snarling. Quistis quickly sent a second surge of power into the beast's flank, a crackling burst of lightning. The fiend jerked and twitched, and Squall lashed out again, another cleave biting into the monster's torso. This time, however, the creature saw it coming, and was hopping backward as Squall swung. The gunblade barely nicked its armor, and the Granaldo shot ahead as the weapon flew pas,. the claws snapped down at Squall's head and chest.

He was ducking and diving aside as the beast's talons cut in. The claws slashed at the dodging SeeD, who snapped back up as they passed, gunblade cutting across in a swift parry. Sharpened talons screeched against the metal, and he kicked backward, leaping away a from the monster before it could use its bulk and momentum against him. Quistis struck again, another blast of flame that scorched the armored hide and had the monster turning to face her. With a vicious hiss, the Granaldo took to the air, its wings beating as it flew up out of Squall's reach.

Or at least, it thought itself out of Squall's reach. Without slowing, the SeeD snapped an arm up, and energy blazed off his fingertips at the same time that Quistis released a bolt of her own. Fire and lightning raged through the air, hammering the enormous monster from two directions. It keeled over, screeching and thrashing, and dove toward the ground, its eyes fixing Quistis where she stood.

She snapped out her whip, clutching the chain's handle tightly as it descended, claws extended. She noted the arc of its dive, and realized that the monster was diving into a-

She rolled aside, her whip scything up into the Granaldo's flank as it tried to slashed her with a passing swoop. The rante blade skipped off the beast's armor plating, and it whirled as it passed, coming to a dead halt in mid-air and turning on the female SeeD. Quistis began summoning another burst of energy to strike the monster, but the fiend was close, _too close_, and even as she felt the magic pour into her hands, it was diving at her anew.

She stepped into its dive as she released her magic, blasting it point-blank with a gout of raging fire. The carapace boiled and charred where she hit it, and then the Granaldo slammed into the former Instructor, smashing her to the ground. They rolled away, Quistis bearing a vicious bruising from the impact and the fiend snarling and hissing as it rose.

Squall's gunblade plunged into its back, and he fired off a shot as it cracked through the weakened chitin. Armor plating and flesh erupted from the concussive impact, and the creature stumbled forward, keening in agony. That bestial wail redoubled as Quistis rose to her feet and snapped her rante across, the curving blade stabbing into the Granaldo's eye. It recoiled, waving its arms in the air and somehow still alive with the half-meter of curved steel buried in its head, and Quistis sent forth another surge of magic. Frigid cold rolled off her fingers and poured into the monster's chest, striking the half-molten chest armor and freezing the chitin.

"Squall, breach, torso!" Quistis yelled as she ripped her blade free, and almost before she'd finished, he was dashing around the side of the wounded, reeling creature. He spotted the snap-frozen chitin plating, and his gunblade rose, sweeping across in a mighty swing Quistis swore she'd seen in one of those bad fantasy movies made decades ago.

The gunblade crashed through the armor, made weak and brittle by both the constant assault and the frost magic, and the Revolver plunged deep. Squall pulled the weapon's trigger again, and a concussive blast roared into the Granaldo's torso. Internal organs were liquefied and flesh burst back out of the wound, and the monster tumbled away. The SeeD ripped his weapon free and stalked after it, but both of the warriors present knew the battle was over.

The fiend pumped its wings once, then twice, and managed to get a meter into the air before it flopped to the grass. It let out one last wail of pain, struggled for a couple of seconds, and went still.

Squall walked over to the dead beast to make sure it was really, really dead, while Quistis hurried to the girl who it had been pursuing.

"Are you alright?" she asked as she got closer. The girl had taken cover behind a tree at the edge of the clearing, and she emerged, her clothes dirty and her breathing heavy. She had to have been fleeing the creature for some time.

"Yes, I'm fine," she said, starting to dust herself off. She had short brown hair, and as Quistis got closer, something about her seemed familiar. Her eyes widened as she looked up into the SeeD's face.

"Quistis," she said, smiling, and the familiar features suddenly came back to her. This was the same girl she'd met outside the infirmary.

"Yes, that's me," Quistis replied, and their heads turned at the roar of a gunshot. By the beast's corpse, Squall was firing his M1911 into the Granaldo's head. He fired two more shots, just to be sure.

"I'm surprised," the girl said after a moment. "I thought you and Squall would have been heading out for . . . longer." Quistis wasn't certain what she meant for a moment, but then the girl's meaning hit her, and her features colored a bit.

"No, that's not why I was going out with - I mean, not taking him there for . . . ."

The girl smiled and laughed a bit, disarming and kindly, and Quistis made the connection between her presence at the infirmary and Squall's questions earlier. Was this the girl he had been asking about? It was almost annoying, seeing him first asking about this person and then dancing with a complete stranger, but Quistis recognized the seed of jealousy and quickly squashed it.

There was crashing in the underbrush, and Quistis reached for her weapon, but then relaxed when she caught sight of human forms moving through the trees. Three white-clad men, their uniforms rugged and utilitarian, emerged from the foliage and hurried toward the group, weapons drawn.

"Ma'am," their leader called, a man Quistis recognized as Trent. She'd seen him in the past at Balamb, and he'd been at the ball that night.

"Captain," the girl replied, nodding to the approaching figures.

"Are you injured?" Trent asked, to which she shook her head.

"Just a bit dirtied up, sorry," she replied, and he frowned, though his body language spoke of immense relief.

"You gave us a scare, slipping away like that," he said, his tone reproved, to which she gave a sheepish shrug as a sign of apology.

"I came to see someone," she offered, glancing back toward Squall, who was walking towards them, cleaning his gunblade while apparently watching the conversation.

"Well, its not safe here, especially away from your escorts," Trent admonished. "Please stay with us. The Headmaster has your quarters ready."

"Thank you," she said, nodding, and glanced back to Quistis. "I, well, I appreciate you helping me."

"It wasn't a problem," Quistis replied, and the girl nodded. She let her bodyguards lead her away, the white-clad troops forming up around her in a protective triangle and moving off at a brisk pace back to the entrance of the jungle.

"Who was that?" Squall asked as he got close, and Quistis shrugged. She was familiar, but she couldn't place where she'd seen the girl.

"Was she from the infirmary this morning?" the older SeeD asked. Squall's only response was a frown and an undirected scowl, before he stepped around her.

"Let's go," he said, and started off. Quistis sighed at her exasperating student - no, colleague now - and plunged into the jungle after him.

She did note, however, that his gaze lingered on the edge of the clearing where the group had disappeared, and stayed that way until they were back under the jungle canopy.

* * *

The cool air of the main Garden facility was a welcome return to normalcy, and brightened Squall's sour mood. The bruises were acting up, the cuts were stinging with the salt of his sweat - especially that damn scar Seifer gave him - and now fresh injuries were making themselves known. His headache was back, he had to take a piss, and to top it off, Quistis managed to squeeze in another nattering bit of whatever as they walked up the corridor.

"You know, Squall," she said as they walked up the passage, "Its not like _everyone_ can get by on their own."

Didn't she take her cue to shut up back when he left her on the balcony? He'd indulged her this long because she'd saved his ass, but now Quistis was getting excessively tiresome.

"Says who?" he replied, in his best "leave me alone" tone. Quistis' face screwed up at that, and she sighed explosively before walking away. Good. Maybe now she'd stop bothering him.

The trip back to his dorm room was mercifully quiet and abundant in its utter lack of anyone else.

The dorm complex featured a lot of noise from some areas, particularly behind closed doors as the party and the alcohol resulted in late-night liaisons. Squall shut the noise out with ease practiced over the twelve years he'd spent growing up in this place, and found his own dorms. The rooms were dark and quiet; Selphie was apparently still out and probably enjoying the party. He noticed her bags weren't even unpacked, save for some clothes laid out on her bed.

First things first; Squall went to the bathroom, and spent a couple of minutes addressing the porcelain throne. That done, he stepped back outside and tossed a MRE into the microwave in the common room outside and stripped off his sweat-soaked undershirt while it was cooking. Squall took off his gunblade and ammo belts, removed his handgun and knives, and grabbed the package of pre-prepared food after it was done heating. He ate quick, inhaling the high-calorie food; the day had left him famished.

Finally, he stepped into the shower for the second time in a few hours. The day rolled off him once more, and he managed a groan of satisfaction as the hot water ran down his battered body. As he cleansed himself again, Squall reflected on the sheer insanity of that day.

A savage duel with a lunatic, followed by a running battle with a living god. A full-scale battle, complete with urban combat and happy round of disobeying orders, followed by a thorough education on what happened when one deviated from the battle plan without decent cause. A nice, brutal fight with an angry top-tier predator in the Training Center, and a balls-out run down a mountain with unstoppable mechanical death chasing him on his heels. A prolonged series of annoyances at Quistis' hands - which he only tolerated by virtue of her saving his life - and a strange girl whose face was too familiar but whose name lurked at the edges of his mind, mocking him. A lifetime's work achieved, symbolized in that set of rank pins sitting on the desk by his bed.

Most trivial of all, but standing out the most in his head, that dance with that strange girl whose face he couldn't forget.

Squall stepped outside the shower stall, toweled off, and flopped into his bed after turning out the lights.

Those mysterious, playful brown eyes, lit by fireworks and faux candlelight, lingered in his head as welcome blackness claimed him.

-

* * *

**_Author's Notes:_** Holy balls, that took waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too long to write.

The main reason why it took me this long to update this story is simple. I got _tired _of writing FFVIII. _Really _tired. So, I took a break, branched out to other fandoms, and finally got an itch to get back to this story, bringing what skills I've developed elsehwere - especially what I've learned writing Firefly and Zelda stories.

As with 99 of what I write, about a third of this story - specifically, the balcony scene - was written out well beforehand, and then I came back to it over the course of a couple of days and finished the rest of the chapter. The Granaldo fight was the real killer, as I haven't written a good swordfight in a long while, mostly focusing on gunplay and modern warfare in my writing. But I'm getting back into my fantasy groove now.

Its good to be back in one of my favorite settings, retelling my favorite story.

Until next chapter . . . .


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